#and in his mind everything was---borrowed time. what the wens said to him as a thank you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mhalachai · 4 years ago

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advance snippet: Updating Wednesdays on Patreon (The Untamed)

So. Do I need to write an Untamed modern!AU with a college twist (Lan Xichen is a music professor in Canada) in which Wei Wuxian attempts to self-therapy himself by creating a graphic novel fantasy AU version of his life (aka the real story of Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation) and Lan Xichen attempts to rebuild his life after a toxic relationship ended? I mean probably not but has that ever stopped me? here’s the intro snippet we’ll see how things go.

(Title is tentatively Updating Wednesdays on Patreon because i don’t know what to call this thing)

The first day of August finds Lan Xichen in a coffee shop, tinkering with the syllabus for his new music theory course, when his phone pings with a message.

> Lan Wangji: Brother.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying has asked me to inform you that he will be publishing the first collection of pages in his new graphic novel on Patreon this afternoon.

Lan Xichen smiles at Lan Wangji's tone. For all that his little brother is more verbose in electronic communication than verbal, he's always so exact.

> To Lan Wangji: Can't wait! What's it about?

The little cursor blinks for a while as Lan Wangji continues to type. Lan Xichen just hopes that his brother-in-law's creative enthusiasm isn't running up against Lan Wangji's sensibilities.

Finally, a reply appears.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Ying wants me to tell you that it is completely fictional.

This gives Lan Xichen pause. Why on earth would Wei Wuxian, or Lan Wangji himself for that matter, need to make that declaration?

> Lan Wangji: It is a high fantasy xianxia story.

Before Lan Xichen can ask why that is causing this odd message exchange, another notification pops up on his phone.

> Wei Wuxian: Lan Xichen! Lan Zhan types so slow! It's just a different art style I wanted to try out and it snowballed from there!

> Wei Wuxian: I know you follow me on Patreon so you're going to get the notification this afternoon so I wanted to warn you hahaha

> Wei Wuxian: All names and places are purely fictional. I don't really have a sword.

Another message arrives, with all the information Lan Xichen needs.

> Lan Wangji: This matters a great deal with Wei Ying.

Lan Xichen smiles at his brother's words. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian have been together since their junior year of high school, through a great deal of personal difficulties on both sides, and are still as fiercely protective of each other as ever. He loves them both for it.

> To Lan Wangji: Thank you for the information. I'm sure it will be great.

> To Wei Wuxian: Can't wait to see it! Anything you do is always great.

No more messages arrive, so Lan Xichen goes back to considering how to change the quiz structure of his musical theory class to avoid a marking crisis with the evaluation of his ensemble class.

Finally, as Lan Wangji gathers up his papers to leave, one last message comes in on his phone.

> Lan Wangji: Thank you for your support. We all appreciate it.

Attached to the message is a photo taken of Lan Wangji's family, he and Wei Wuxian holding Lan Yuan between them. The toddler grins at the camera, his arms around Wei Wuxian's neck. Wei Wuxian's looks at the camera, dark circles under his eyes like he's working through the night again, while Lan Wangji only has eyes for his husband.

It's so wholesome and loving that a sliver of pain rakes through Lan Xichen's heart. He's happy for his brother. His brother deserves the world. Lan Wangji deserves being loved, and to love.

Not everyone gets that. Sometimes, that falls apart.

Sometimes, for some people, love is just an illusion.

Lan Xichen tucks his phone away and leaves the coffee shop.

He gets home mid-afternoon, and spends a while stowing away the groceries he picked up on his walk. The neighbourhood has several Greek and Persian markets and he's able to buy most of what he needs on foot, saving the Chinese markets in Richmond for his weekly dim sum brunches with Lan Wangji's family when he can borrow the use of Lan Wangji's sensible and economical mini-van.

He doesn't drive any more, not since—

Lan Xichen stops and puts down the bag of avocados. His mind is a funny place, bringing up the oddest things at the most inconvenient of times.

He doesn't drive anymore. He doesn't need to, using the bus and the odd taxi to transport his instruments up to the university for performances. The public transit system is so much better.

Safer.

He goes back to putting away the vegetables, pulls out a cookbook (new, spine uncreased, bought for him by Lan Qiren for his birthday) and opens it at random. He's never had coconut curry salmon before, but he has all the ingredients.

Trying new things. He's supposed to be trying new things.

The recipes says it will only take half an hour to make, so he goes up to his office and turns on his computer to check his work email. The message fly fast and furious, some about the new department head, some about class enrollment, a few from students asking if they can get onto his waitlist. He replies to the most urgent, files the rest, then checks his personal email.

The notification from Wei Wuxian's Patreon is up, so Lan Xichen clicks it.

Then he sits back, frankly impressed. He's seen Wei Wuxian's comic style progress since the boy was drawing silly cartoons to entertain Lan Wangji in history class, but even he wasn't prepared for this.

The art is gorgeous. Stylized figures, intricate period costuming, rich backgrounds – it's truly a work of art.

Then he gets a better look the two characters' faces, and laughs out loud. It's Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, clear as day, with long hair and flowing robes. Wei Wuxian's even managed to capture that exasperated-yet-fond look Lan Wangji has whenever Wei Wuxian is being particularly loud.

The introduction is even better. "Join our hero Lan Wangji and dashing rogue Wei Wuxian as they battle deadly monsters and forge a path with demonic cultivation!"

Wei Wuxian hasn't even changed their names. True, he uses his mother's surname professionally, so Cangse Ying can't be easily tracked back, but still.

Lan Xichen wonders for a moment if Lan Wangji is okay with this, but then he notices that the project text is available in both English and in Chinese, with the Chinese written in Lan Wangji's style.

They worked on this together, then.

Trying not to think about why that makes his chest feel funny, Lan Xichen opens to the first page--

-- Which features a bruised and bloodied Wei Wuxian falling off a cliff while a horrified Lan Wangji screams after him.

Confused, Lan Xichen makes sure he hasn't accidentally read the last page first. No, this is the first. Still a little baffled, he clicks to the next page, sees the stylized banner that reads six years ago and relaxes. This is Wei Wuxian's style of using flashbacks to interrupt the narrative flow. Lan Xichen spent most of Lan Wangji's university years hearing his brother's despair for Wei Wuxian's artistic choices in essay form.

But enough about the past. Lan Xichen settles in to read the first chapter of the story, where Wei Wuxian and his siblings (Jiang Yanli drawn lovingly, Jiang Cheng with a bigger frown and more menacing eyebrows than Lan Xichen remembers) traveled to the Cloud Recesses (the sarcastic nickname Wei Wuxian gave to Lan Qiren's West Vancouver mansion) for cultivator lectures. Lan Xichen is there on the page, too, drawn taller and far more imposing than he is in real life.

The first encounter between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji is fantastical and improbable and, according to Lan Xichen's recollection, almost completely accurate. Wei Wuxian had mouthed off at Lan Wangji at the weekend orientation camp for their new arts high school, Lan Wangji glared the boy into submission, then later that night when Wei Wuxian tried to sneak back onto school grounds with alcohol, he and Lan Wangji had gotten into a fight. Verbal, instead of with swords, and without the supernatural murder victims, but Lan Xichen remembered everything else from Lan Wangji's indignant recitation on his return home.

He keeps reading, enjoying the art and the lyrical narration, and keeps enjoying it right up to the scene when Nie Huaisang appears on the page to offer Lan Qiren a present, Meng Yao standing right behind him.

Lan Xichen doesn't remember standing up, but here he is, two feet away from his computer, heart pounding. He hadn't—Why—

What was Meng Yao doing in a story about Wei Wuxian's high school years?

Taking a deep breath, Lan Xichen makes himself return to his desk. As far as he knew, he was the one who introduced Meng Yao to Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, when the boys were in university and after he and Meng Yao started dating--

Lan Xichen can feel his heartbeat slow, as he tries to breathe. He needs to stop this foolishness over Meng Yao. They dated before living together for a while, that was all. They broke up. It happens to people all the time.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were in college for most of that time, anyway, living their lives. They barely knew Meng Yao, even if Wei Wuxian's sister married Meng Yao's half-brother. They couldn't know how badly Lan Xichen had messed up their relationship, how terrible he had been to live with. It was his fault that—

Stop.

It's over. In the past. A story that has Meng Yao as a minor character isn't going to mess with Lan Xichen's head. He's not going to let it.

He exhales and makes himself look back at the screen.

Meng Yao only shows up a few more times. For some reason, he's the only character who isn't tagged with his own name. He's there handing over the present to Lan Qiren, standing in front of Nie Huaisang when the Wens arrive, then in two last panels in which he tells the on-screen Lan Xichen that he has to return to Nie Mingjue's side.

Lan Xichen's stomach sours. He and Nie Mingjue had been close, before Meng Yao came into Lan Xichen's life. After that, Lan Xichen hadn't had much time for anyone else. That was normal, Meng Yao always said. People in love only needed each other.

Lan Xichen picks up his phone, then puts it down. He can't ask Lan Wangji about this. It would be weird. Wei Wuxian must just be making artistic narrative choices.

The chapter ends soon after, with Wen Qing and Wen Ning welcomed grudgingly into Cloud Recesses. The next chapter is due up in two weeks, the page declares, and welcomes any comments or feedback. A few people are already posting, gushing over the art work and discussing the teaser from the opening page.

Wanting to be supportive, Lan Xichen writes a small review, complimenting the artistic style, the intricacies of the outfits, poses a query as to the different colour palettes between the first page (dark, red, menacing) and the flashback scenes in Cloud Recesses (light, airy, hopeful), then translates the comment into English and posts both versions up. If Lan Wangji is going though all the trouble of ensuring a bilingual experience, then he will too.

He should go start dinner, he really should, but some part of him is drawn back to the first panel in which Meng Yao appears. He's shorter than Lan Xichen remembers in life, the long hair and braids suiting his face.

It's been so long since Lan Xichen last saw Meng Yao. He's not sure what he's thinking. Is he wistful? Mournful? Sad?

He doesn't know. He never knows what he feels about Meng Yao, which was the problem. He's not normal about feelings. Even Lan Wangji, whose brain is a unique and complicated thing, looking for order and reason and patterns in an illogical and messy world, loves fiercely, feels passionately. Maybe he got all the love in the family, and Lan Xichen got stuck with the stunted and undergrown heart.

Stirring, he pages back to the first appearance of his on-screen twin. The Lan Xichen on the screen looks patient, kind, a smile hiding behind his eyes.

He hadn't realized this is how Wei Wuxian sees him.

He picks up his phone.

> To Wei Wuxian: What an incredible achievement! The art is amazing!

> To Wei Wuxian: Where is the story from? As it's a work of fiction and has nothing to do with your real life ;)

> Wei Wuxian: Oh hahahha the story is a collaboration of a bunch of ideas! I can't tell u more (sworn to secrecy by my collaborators) but so glad you like it!!!!!!

> To Lan Wangji: Did you do the writing? I love the dialogue.

> Lan Wangji: Wei Wuxian did most of the English. I made it better and did the translation.

> To Lan Wangji: Have you told uncle about this project?

> Lan Wangji: He prefers to speak of my composition achievements.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down and rubs his eyes. The old tension between Lan Qiren and Lan Wangji never goes away. It started in high school with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian, continued into university with Lan Qiren's disapproval of Wei Wuxian as well as Lan Wangji's decision to attend a local university for musical studies instead of going to Julliard in Lan Xichen's footsteps, and outrage at the news that Lan Wangji asked Wei Wuxian to marry him before they even finished their undergraduate degrees.

The resulting years had been a long-standing cold war, with Lan Xichen trying to mediate in the middle. Even the arrival of Lan Yuan on the scene twenty months previous hadn't softened both sides into anything resembling ease.

If Lan Wangji doesn't want to tell their uncle that he and his husband are collaborating on a semi-biographical graphic novel, Lan Xichen isn't going to muddy the waters.

> To Lan Wangji: It sounds like you're enjoying the project.

> Lan Wangji: Working with Wei Ying on any project is enjoyable. I read that couples with young children should try to engage in a mutual hobby outside of parenting.

> To Lan Wangji: Very wise.

He wonders if he should ask about Meng Yao, types out a message to that effect, then deletes it.

> To Lan Wangji: I should start dinner – see you on the weekend for brunch?

>Lan Wangji: Yes.

Lan Xichen puts his phone down. The days are long in August and the sun still bright, but he's tired and he doesn't know why.

anyway that’s where this whole disaster is going. new fandoms are fun.

#the untamed #my writing #teaser snippet of a new story #i have 14000 words written #trying to get is mostly done before popping up on ao3

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rosethornewrites · 3 years ago

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T and G rated fics I read this weekend!

This is all The Untamed/MDZS fics.

So I learned last week that I can only add 100 links. And I read over 100 fics 😬 so now this is gonna be two posts. Additionally, I’ll likely start posting these daily from now on. It just gets to be a lot.

Finished:

Tumblr Fics:

BEETOBER 2021 DAY 2 - EARRING, by @bloody-bee-tea

Rated T:

find a home in him, by makebelieveanything and nerdzeword

“Come on a-Cheng, let’s go,” she prodded, gently ushering him out the door as she handed off jackets to both boys.

“Why the fuck is he always doing stupid shit and making us run after him for?” Jiang Cheng complained as he shrugged into his jacket, Lan Wangji donning his own in silence.

“Wangji?” Yanli prodded gently. “Are you alright?”

“... what if we never find him?”

“We will,” Yanli said confidently.

or Modern AU where Wei Wuxian runs away from his foster home when he turns 18, and it doesn't end the way he planned.

My Brother's Keeper - Purple Years (The first stage of grief), by ArchiveWriter

Set after WWX plunges from the cliff after the battle at Nightless City. The ramblings of Jiang Cheng's mind in the first stage of grief, flicking back and forth between the past and then.

thank you, drunk me, by carmiemaybe (glazedlilies)

Or where Lan Zhan is confused at Wei Ying's behaviour after the previous, drunken night's events.

This Grave Will Not Be Mine, by Rana Eros (ranalore)

The Burial Mounds' claim to Wei Wuxian has been superceded.

Qinghe Jue, by Merinnan

Nie Mingjue promised to protect his brother. He wasn't going to let qi deviating and dying at Jinlintai stop him from keeping that promise.

With What Proof, by Preludian_Staves

"I know he did it!"

"What proof do you have?"

Meeting the Family, by sami (part of a series)

Wei Wuxian has a secret.

I’ll stick to my single-log bridge till it’s dark, by autumncolour

Can’t anyone give me a nice, favorable road to walk on?

Lan Wangji leaves the Burial Mounds. Wei Wuxian gets drunk. The night in Yiling is clear and dark, and full of thick, half-understood longing.

Love Me on the Sunlit Grass, by Eliza (second in a series)

Zizhen will always be there when Jin Ling calls in a panic about his uncle.

the mutability of survival, by tunnelOFdawn

All the ways Lan Zhan, Wei Ying, and Jiang Cheng could have died in canon.

i'll keep walking, by justdoityoufucker

Wen Qing died.

This, she knows; from the painful lick of flames to the unavoidable choking that came with the smoke to the wickedly satisfied grin on Jin Guangshan’s face before she closed her eyes the last time. She hoped, those last few moments, that it would be the end. Wei Wuxian would be free, and the last remnants of their family would be safe. She hoped that Wen Ning wouldn’t feel any pain, when the time came for him to follow her.

Or, the one where Wen Qing ends up in the past and fixes the future.

Rated G:

天涯之外 / beyond the world's end, by yuer (vintageblueskies)

"Wei Ying," Lan Wangji says, his voice cracks open in a way Wei Wuxian has never heard before. He crosses over to where Wei Wuxian is still sitting; Wei Wuxian starts to scramble up, but Lan Wangji just shakes his head, gets to his knees next to him. And isn't that something? The untouchable Hanguang-jun on his knees in the Burial Mounds, dirtying his pristine robes to sit next to Wei Wuxian.

or, lan wangji returns to the burial mounds

Song of My Heart, Mate of My Soul, by SakuraKage

The Gusu Lan are said to have an innate connection with music. The Gusu Lan are also said to love deeply – with their whole soul – so deeply that they seem to only be able to fall in love once.

Lan Wangji knows these rumours. He also knows the truth, or close to it, as it has been handed down through the generations. Their connection to music runs far deeper than the other sects could dream. Every Lan heart contains a song, a musical piece that encapsulates the very fiber of their being, and it only comes to life under a specific set of circumstances. The parameters to unlock your heartsong are highly disputed, but the generally accepted condition to fill is … to meet your soulmate.

see your face, hear my voice in the dark, by arypls

Wei Wuxian is having trouble falling asleep but Lan Wangji is there with gentle words and soothing touches to show his husband he's no longer alone.

If I knew what safety looked like, by askanis

Beautiful, brave Wei Ying is waiting for Lan Zhan to tell her she cannot be all of who she is. She will listen, if Lan Zhan says this. If Lan Zhan even looks uncomfortable, Wei Ying will take this back and never mention it again. Will pretend that this is not her truth, perhaps until she believes it herself.

And Lan Zhan will never get to fully see Wei Ying for who Wei Ying is.

underneath the magnolias, by krizzlesandblues

Summer in Cloud Recesses means iced fruits sent by merchants, more practical trainings for juniors, with some of them catching up on their lessons.

But for the youngest members of GusuLan Sect, summer means classes under the big magnolia tree.

Word Up, Talk the Talk, by Larryissocute

It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

Hai Shi — Sleeping Hours, by Saint Er (wwxsays_er)

It's right before bedtime, when a drunk Wei Wuxian shows up on Lan Wangji's door, and suddenly, this has now become Lan Wangji's problem.

In the Silence, by XianleDianxia

With his husband and son on a night hunt, Wei Wuxian is left to his own thoughts. His temperament is not as calm as Lan Wangji would like it to be.

intervention (how to convince your very gay brother that he, is in fact, gay), by okok29

"You guys hold hands all the time around campus and he takes you out to brunch every Saturday. He even brings you roses," Jiang Cheng emphasizes.

"Yeah, as bros do!" Wei Ying says cheerfully.

jiang cheng tries to forcibly drag wei ying out of the closet.

No Regrets, by Sarehz

Lan Zhan gives his forehead ribbon to Wei Wuxian as a sign of his love.

Look Down to Reminisce About My Hometown, by Nadat (one-shot series)

A collection of short stories following a Promptember list; will add tags and alter the rating as appropriate. It will be mostly live action show canon but I may borrow here and there from the book if something strikes me.

jin ling's uncles and aunts, by saheeli

jin zixuan invites all of jin ling's uncles and aunts to his birthday party. there are more than he even thought possible.

Helianthus, by tinykira

"Say, Lan Zhan. Do you know that when people die, they become plants?"

The Jingshi, which was formerly called as The Gentian House, is now also full of sunflowers.

Magical Marriage Ribbons, by starandrea

But consider this: the Lan forehead ribbons are magical, and the mountain knows it. (It takes Wei Ying less than a day after Lan Yi’s cave to realize more than just her wards consider him family.)

Or: If you’re accidentally betrothed to your classmate in a mostly legitimate life or death situation, how long can you wait to tell him before he finds out by accident?

their mothers sons, by silversshadow

In one world Jiang Fengmian gave Wei Ying more attention than he did either of his own children. In this world he can barely look at the child.

A series of short looks into a different timeline.

You blow me away, by silverclaw

Lan Zhan’s neighbour is playing a song that has been stuck in his head for ages. The neighbour just so happens to be the singer of said song and he’s supposedly laying low.

Echo Of My Heart, by ColdBloodedReptile

A short insight of Lan Wangji's thoughts during Dafan Mountain, CQL version.

And the scene in Jingshi before Wei Wuxian wakes ft Lan Sizhui.

A new score, by Lhaewiel

Wei Wuxian does not know this new score. It is evening, Gusu looks like a painting during this time of the year, with snow slowly falling down and covering the court outside.

Parallel Lines, by Sarehz

Wei Ying: Lan Zhan is going to break up with me!

Nie Huaisang: No, he's not. But please tell me in great detail why you think that.

Jiang Cheng: [Unfortunately sharing an apartment with Nie Huaisang and therefore has no choice but to listen] Please leave me out of this.

Why Wei Ying Shouldn’t Matchmake, by PrinceJakeFireCake

Lan Wangji is NOT jealous of Jiang Cheng. He’s just trying to figure out why Wei Ying likes him so much. Wei Ying thinks it’s great that Lan Zhan has a crush on his brother. (Hint: he does not)

to home, by Guinny (4 chapters)

'My Wei Ying,

It seems that we are winning the war. Wait for me. I will come home. I will come home to you. We will spend the rest of our lives in peace. Far from all of this. In a place that is quiet and there's only us.

Yours,

Lan Zhan.’

if you love him, never let go, by cloud_wanderer

three times lan wangji let go, and the one time he swore to never do it again

Hard to forget, by Lucky_Moonly

“Aiya sorry for interrupting what must be a very interesting read,” a boy who seemed to be a first year as well, cheekily exclaimed, before he smiled widely at Lan Wangji and he stepped inside the compartment. “But did you perchance see my pet axolotl? He’s black and he’s missing one of his front legs!”

in sickness & in flames, by talesfromthecryptid (2 chapters)

the one in which lan wangji has a cold and wei wuxian fusses over him and falls even more in love with him, something he didn't even know was possible but oh, it really is.

learning and the dead, by northofallmusic (tofsla)

In a small house of his own, after everything, Wen Ning works with his hands.

Unpredictable, by canis_m

If Lan Wangji had said a few more things while drunk in Qinghe.

Waited For Precious Moments Such As This, by Preludian_Staves

He would not trade these precious moments away for anything in the world.

Unfinished:

Rated T:

No Regrets, by AluraRose

Lan Wangji took a deep breath, centered himself, and swallowed his pride.

“I apologize.” He bowed low to Jiang Wanyin and held it. “I wish only to help your brother. I humbly request access, and give my word that I will touch nothing and speak to no one of what I see.”

“I can’t just let you in there!”

“Even to save Wei Ying?”

And suddenly the wind seemed to go out of the sails of Jiang Wanyin’s anger. “I can’t” he repeated more quietly.

In order to save Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji must first convince Jiang Wanyin to trust him.

Your Name On My Chest, by Director_XuanWu

Lan Wangji is the president, at the beginning of his second year on his first term.

Wei Wuxian, his ex fiancé, was dishonorably discharged from the military because of a well hidden scandal.

They meet again after 13 years. Lan Wangji will drop everything for him. Wei Wuxian will sacrifice himself for him again. What does it take to finally be together? Too many goodbyes, too many heartaches. Yet they conquer all.

Whatever it takes, by Moonlit_dewdrops

Jiang Cheng and Wei WuXian are sent back to the past. This time, they can save everyone they love. They can make the right choices. They can learn to trust one another. However, everything comes with a price.

underneath your skin, by tardigradeschool

Wei Wuxian falls into the Burial Mounds. His body walks out.

White Flames in a Red Sky, by ZipZapZop

Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to run away in the middle of a snowstorm.

Wei Wuxian needs help, but he can’t understand that for the life of him.

and so it goes, by doyeorem (pomellogranate)

"While a person is dead in one particular moment, they are still alive and well in all of the other moments of their life, because all of time exists at once."

In which Hanguang-jun is at Qiongqi Path, and instead of Jin Zixuan's death, he witnesses Wei Ying throw himself in the way of a punch from the Ghost General, and three swords - one of which is Bichen.

The Burial Mounds is enraged and offended, and many suffer for it.

Purgatory Divinity, by sinfulempire

"Your third and final mission is to rewrite history, Wei Wuxian."

In which Wei Wuxian, the son of the Heavenly Demon Empress, Cangse Sanren and the Celestial, Wei Changze has to rewrite history in order to prove himself worthy of the throne, however, this was a mission that he did not sign himself up for.

[WARNING!! WARNING!! System error, system erro-]

"What-"

Upon accepting the mission, Wei Wuxian found himself back in the past. He had returned to his 6 year old body accompanied by the system at the dingy streets of Yiling- far before Jiang Fengmian had found him and took him in.

Wei Wuxian was alone and surrounded by numerous hound dogs.

Rated G:

Coil Tightly, by Thunderstruck (Blueyed_Impala)

When Wei Wuxian stumbles across a shady pet store in the back alley of his new town he ends up leaving with a companion for life, and more than he bargained for.

Forced apologies, by Io_Palladium

Jiang Cheng confronts Lan Zhan after Wei Yings punishment and it changes everything.

#the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chen qing ling #cql #mdzs #untamed fanfiction

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tanoraqui · 4 years ago

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[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[now all on AO3!]

Nie Huaisang wakes up from his overexertion-induced sleep after about 14 hours, and about 24 hours before his brother wakes up. He has this time to think

He doesn’t use it to think, because his brother is still unconscious, comatose from a severe qi deviation. Chief Physician Nie Fengji, Wen Qing, Wen Qing’s Uncle Six, and assorted Nie physicians do obscure medical things to him involving spiritual energy, needles, a dash of surgery, and actually more of the poison that nearly killed him, in what Nie Huaisang can only assume is some sort of physician-approved hair of the dog scheme, and Nie Huaisang participates by sitting quietly in the corner until even that is deemed too in-the-way and he’s banished first to the hallway and then, with physician authority, to his own bed

they do search, and find some of the yin-storing grass hidden in Wen Ning’s pillow. Nie Huaisang doesn’t go to bed; he goes down to the third guest room and takes A-Yuan and Granny out for a walk just long enough for a couple disciples to beat Wen Ning enough to look good later - split lip and bruises, etc. In case anyone comes checking the story he gave Jin Qixian

Wen Ning, he hears, bears it with aplomb. Just in case it’s the Wens who are lying, Nie Huaisang doesn’t really give a shit

But on the third day since he collapsed off Baxia into the main courtyard, Nie Mingjue wakes up. He’s groggy and weak, physically and spiritually, but he shoves himself into a sitting position with a glare, catches and holds Nie Huaisang reflexively when he flings himself at his brother with a relieved laugh. Someone pulls him back - “stop putting weight on him!” - but it’s enough. It’s enough.

Wen Qing has three-day bags under her eyes. She says quietly, “That he’s awake - it shouldn’t leave this room. Not until Nie-zhongzhi is more recovered, and has decided what he wishes to do.” She nods toward Nie Mingjue

“What the fuck happened?” he demands, and it’s the weakest snarl Nie Huaisang has ever heard. His brother is already sagging back against his pillows. “Jin Guangshan was actually polite before I left Lanling, but I don’t remember...”

“He poisoned you,” Nie Huaisang says bluntly, because he’s thinking again and that was the last straw he needed to be convinced of how this happened (he never really stopped thinking, deep beneath the anxious terror and anticipation.) “No, this stays here...or can he be moved to his own bedroom?” he asks the Chief Physician. “It’d be more comfortable, and easier to hide his state from any spies Jin Guangyao might have - I mean, I assume he has spies. I’d want to...”

[the mastermind]

A few days later, Nie Huaisang arrives at Lotus Pier and begs his friends to take him out on the town. Distract him with food and wine and cheer from the stresses of home, where his brother is still comatose and everyone is starting to expect him to be responsible instead

Jiang Cheng is busy with Sect Leader duties but Wei Wuxian takes him up on it immediately. There’s nowhere quite like Yunmeng’s piers for goofing around - somewhere around the fourth street theater show and second jug of wine between them, Nie Huaisang leans over and asks, “The next time there’s a cultivational conference at Carp Tower - would you be interested in making a ruckus?”

they’re walking down the street in a crowd. It’s very hard to be overheard on the street in a crowd

“Like tonight?” Wei Wuxian grins and he, too, looks like this night has been a welcome break

“Without me,” Nie Huaisang admits. “Just to have some fun - make a scene! Cause a fun distraction!”

A single jar of wine in Wei Wuxian means he’s still mostly sharp. “A distraction for what?”

“Oh, you know,” Nie Huaisang says airily, hides half his face behind a coy fan and says more quietly. “Helping some of those Wens dying in Jin Guangshan’s work camps.”

Wei Wuxian has never had much head for intrigue, but at least he whispers. “The same Wens who assa- who tried to assassinate your brother?”

“No, silly!” Nie Huaisang baps him with the fan, laughing, and hopes WWX sees in his eyes that he’s serious. “That’s a different thing. This is just to have some fun!”

Wei Wuxian meets his eyes, and his face splits back into a grin. It’s regained the sharp-toothed edge its been carrying since the end of the Sunshot Campaign. “Why not? I could use a little fun myself!”

The next cultivation conference at Carp Tower is in just three weeks, and Nie Huaisang spends them frantic. There’s so much to do, and he can’t let anyone know about any of it. There are plenty of empty houses, empty entire villages - the war was fought in Qinghe only second to Qishan, for Wen Ruohan’s determination to capture the impenetrable fortress clan

he wants to err on the side of making sure people will have shelter, especially with winter coming on, but he needs to err on the side of stealth or they’ll never pull this off -

but how are they (how is he) going to pull it off anyway, honestly; there’s only so many times he can storm in and demand things with a wild combination of pitiful tears and borrowed authority...he can’t exactly get another note for the actual Jin clan -

...though...

they don’t need that many extra roofs, at least, if there won’t be that many people (priority of the Dafan Wens, of course, to repay Wen Qing and because, honestly, they’re the largest group that survived the initial purges, being mostly non-combatants)

he tried and failed to put the distraction out of mind, because there’s really no way to know in advance what Wei Wuxian would do, much less how to handle it. whether it would create a day or a week or several more years of chaos...

and then there was the really difficult part: getting Nie Mingjue to stay the fuck in bed, or at least in his own suite of rooms. Nie Huaisang’s brother was the worst patient possible, which was unfair, because Nie Huaisang himself would’ve loved to have an excuse to lounge in his bedroom doing leisurely, sedentary activities for few weeks. Instead he was out running around organizing things - while letting as few people as possible know what he was organizing or even that he was doing it - and Nie Mingjue was being threatened every other day by Wen Qing and her needles

To make matters more exciting, 10 days out from the cultivation conference, a delegation arrived without from YunmengJiang - Jiang Wanyin himself, and riding with him, Jiang Yanli. Nie Huaisang met them in the courtyard; she stepped gracefully off her brother’s sword and gave him a hug that was, honestly, meltingly comforting and kind

“Nie Huaisang! I’ve been so sorry to hear about Mingjue-gongzi. I would have come sooner, but, you know, we’re only stealing this time from a trip to Lanling for more wedding planning.” She gestured to a pair of disciples who between them hauled a tureen the size of a small child. “I brought some of my best medicinal soup - I don’t know if it will possibly be right, but A-Xian told me how hard it’s been for you, and I just had to try to help.”

offer

“You’re too kind, Jiang-guniang.” He fluttered his fan anxiously. “I’m sure Da-ge would thank you if he could, but...” he blinked away tears. “I can’t even let you in to see him; the physicians even turned away his sworn brothers.”

skeptical outlining of situation

(Jin Guangyao was obviously right out, and the idea of involving earnest, idealistic Zewu-jun in any sort of conspiracy made Nie Huaisang think fondly of breaking out in hives)

“Of course,” Jiang Yanli said sympathetically. She took her brother’s arm back to lean on, and Nie Huaisang took his cue to bow and offer her refreshments and a set - maybe with a view? He knew all the best places. Jiang Yanli, genuinely frail enough to not be expected to do much more than look lovely, accepted

they had a very pleasant conversation about other things - poetry, who was and wasn’t being invited to the wedding, the latest fashions in Lanling (Nie Huaisang sighed wistfully)

eventually Jiang Yanli asked, between one sip of tea and the next, “This event you’re planning with A-Xian - could it be postponed? Say, six months?”

the wedding. Nie Huaisang’s breath caught briefly - now that would be a distraction in its own right, even without anything Wei Wuxian could pull

but he thought about the emaciated, flinching Wens in the Qiongqi Pass camp, and those back in Qishan who weren’t much better off, and shook his head. “Not for those to whom it would matter most.”

and, frankly, he couldn’t ask his brother to stay quiet so long, and he really would prefer than Lanling not know Nie Mingjue had truly survived until they were ready to strike back

Jiang Yanli hummed thoughtfully. “What about...two, two-and-a-half months?”

...there was nothing happening in two months, except the middle of winter. which would make roads more impassible, maybe to their advantage, but only if a couple different things went wrong...

but Jiang Yanli was smiling sweetly, like someone with a plan

“I think that would be wonderful,” he said, and sipped his tea back at her

Jiang Cheng punches him on the shoulder before they go and says he doesn’t seem like he’s doing completely terribly at everything, which is the Jiang Cheng equivalent of a supportive hug and 10-minute earnest pep talk. Nie Huaisang is genuinely warmed

Jiang Yanli, mentally cracking her knuckles as her brother flies her to Carp Tower: time to seduce my fiancee, the third hottest man in the kingdom, into putting a baby in me so we can speedrun our wedding prep - for a good cause! god I love my life

[the grifter]

unfortunately, two-and-a-half months is too long a delay to use the usual “ask for forgiveness, not permission” method, not least because Nie Huaisang has to explain to his brother why he wants him to keep pretending to be comatose, when even his physicians are starting to agree that he needs exercise more than rest

“No,” Nie Mingjue says flatly

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang pleads. “It’ll just be so much easier if everyone thinks I’m running around like a terrified rabbit!”

“Why do you insist on being useless at all times?” Nie Mingjue growled, a familiar old song. “If you just applied yourself - ”

“Because it’s easier!” Nie Huaisang cried (a newer tune). “Because I don’t want to be a great warrior, I just want to make pretty things and have friends and have fun - and when I do want something, it’s much easier to get it if no one thinks I’m worth anything - ”

“Of course you’re worth something,” Nie Mingjue snapped. “You’re the heir to QingheNie and you’re my brother!”

Nie Huaisang really did cry easily. He blinked away the tears.

“The Jins tried to kill you, da-ge,” he said quietly. “And they tried to make it look like a qi deviation.” (Like Father, went unsaid. Like my mother and your uncle and three of our cousins, one of whom was only thirteen.) “I want to make clear to them what we think of that.”

Nie Mingjue unclenched his hand from Baxia’s hilt, with whom Nie Fengji and Sixth Uncle had finally agreed to let him reunite. “Then we kill one of them back,” he said. “Not this underhanded, indirect...and with Wen-dogs...”

“If I could kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao in one stroke, right now, I’d do it. But that would start another war, and we could survive another war, but a lot of our people wouldn’t. Only about seven out of ten survived the last one.” He bit his lip. “And the Wens...not all of them were monsters, we’ve seen that, and the Jins tried to blame the ones we know are alright. This will show them that we can make up our own minds.”

Nie Mingjue was silent for a long moment, and Nie Huaisong resisted the urge to shift from foot to foot. His brother was never impressed with fidgeting.

“Fine,” Nie Mingjue said at last. “Do your scheme. But you’d better prove that you’re right, Huaisang.”

“I will, Nie-zhongzhi.” He stood at parade attention.

“And you won’t use it as excuse that you’re too busy to practice your saber.”

“Da-ge!” he whined instantly. “But I will be busy! We need to tar all the house roofs in Ning Village, and find about fifty spare horses, and weed out any spies in our household - oh, and do you have any letters from Jin Guangyao I can look at? And...”

News came that the wedding of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had been moved up to two months rom now and Nie Huaisang whistles under his breath then flinches reflexively, before he realizes there’s no "Twin Prides” around to smack him for disrespecting their sister

But two months somehow passed even faster than that first week had. Homes to quietly repair and no few medical supplies to stock up on, winter snow-ready horses to find and discard with another trip to Yunmeng, social visits to carefully negotiate...

Gossip flowed, as always. Gossip said: Nie Mingjue has survived the dastardly attack on his life; he’s still half-dead or he’s twice the warrior he ever was or he personally executed every Wen in his dungeons. Gossip said: the witch Wen Qing had seduced him and stabbed him with a poisoned blade; the witch Wen Qing had fallen in love with him and saved him from a random qi deviation; the witch Wen Qing was actually the Yiling Patriarch in disguise and both of the above were true. Gossip generally agreed that Nie Huaisang was still wavering between disconsolate over his brother’s brush his death (and his own brush with Sect Leadership) and dragging anyone who would heed him out for drinks and entertainment

Jin Guangyao did have spies in the Unclean Realm, of course; he knew their value. His girl in the kitchen got fired over some mistake with a roast, but the guest cultivator and the chambermaid and assorted people in the nearest towns generally agreed: Nie Mingjue was back on his feet but still rebuilding his strength under the careful eye of his Chief Physician, and didn’t remember anything from the day of his qi deviation. Wen Qing was dead, as were all the other Wens - she and Wen Zhichen had preformed well in healing the damage she’d done in her attempt to poison the sect leader, under threat of their own deaths, but when Nie Mingjue woke up he'd ordered their deaths without even the dignity of public execution. Nie Huaisang was so wracked with guilt over bringing them into the house that he’d actually started practicing saber sometimes, and just a little heartbroken over the death of the child in particular

this last, Jin Guangyao found out himself, as well as confirmed most of the rest when he was allowed to visit his sworn brother and ended up letting Nie Huaisang sob on his shoulder for two straight hours. He had to have the robe steam-cleaned, but it was very informative

“Would you like us to kill the rest of the Wen-dogs?” he asked his sworn brother. “Or you can do it yourself, of course.”

Nie Mingjue snorted dismissively. “I killed the ones who were the biggest problem. Keep working your dogs to death as you like.”

The night before they were supposed to leave for the Jiang-Jin wedding, Nie Huaisang sat in his brother’s chambers (as he had taken to doing many evenings) and absolutely failed to focus on his paints.

“ - I’m sure I can handle the lieutenants left in charge, though really I haven’t talked to them as much so they’re more likely to be suspicious, especially if I didn’t get the calligraphy right - ”

“Huaisang - ”

“ - and the Wens themselves, I mean, this has to go quickly if it’s going to work at all - what if Wen Ning hasn’t gotten word around - we haven’t heard from him since yesterday, what if they found him, he could be- Wen Qing is going to kill me - ”

(the Nie sect wasn’t given to duplicity, but that didn’t mean their fortress of a sect building didn’t have a few spare secret rooms and passageways, in which to hide a handful of Wens for a couple months)

“A-sang - ”

“ - hell, what if the arrays don’t work and we all just die - but it’s the only way; horses wouldn’t be fast enough, especially with the heavy snows this year - ”

“Nie Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue barks in a parade-ground voice.

Nie Huaisang spins around mid-pace to stand at attention, one hand behind his back and the other on his saber hilt. A very few reflexes have been successfully trained into him

His brother scowls at him from the bed, where he sits in lotus position as the world’s grumpiest, most broad-shouldered guru. Nie Huaisang braces himself

“I’m proud of you,” says Nie Mingjue

“I- what?”

Nie Huaisang has spent the last two and a half months careful of every expression he made, but now he isn’t sure what to do at all.

“You’ve actually put effort into this. It’s needlessly elaborate and only just barely honorable, and it’s certainly not saberwork. But it’s...something.” He nods.

“...oh.”

his posture does relax in surprise. but then, the parade-attention was never going to last

“You will pull off this absurd scheme, and you will not be in any way injured in the process, because if you are, we will go to war with LanlingJin.”

“Yes, da-ge”

“Now shut the fuck up, or I’ll call Wen Qing in to put you to sleep, while I do this bullshit boring nightly meditation.”

Nie Huaisang ducks his head. “Yes, da-ge.”

oh, a smile. a smile is the expression he wants to make

The day of the wedding of Jin Zixuan of Langling and Jiang Yanli of Yunmeng dawns auspiciously bright and the ceremony lives up to every portent. Carp Tower is decorated with even more red than gold. The bride is radiant enough to make the sun weep for jealousy; the groom looks pretty good, too; and they only have eyes for one another. Both her brothers cry, Jiang Cheng stoically and Wei Wuxian loudly; Madame Jin looks even happier than the newlyweds; and Nie Huaisang makes sure he’s among the first to offer the happy couple congratulations, so he can equally quickly slip out and set off a teleportation talisman

He appears in the woods near the first town in the Qishan that the spare Wen cultivators and other prisoners of war are being stored in. A dozen Nie cultivators are waiting expectantly, led by Zhao Huandi

Nie Huaisang quickly strips himself of the outer layer of wedding-appropriate finery, leaving his ordinary day’s slightly-nicer-than-most-would-bother-with finery. He tucks the extra beautiful stuff carefully in a qiankun pouch and asks, “Everyone ready?”

nods and salutes and murmurs of agreement

He briefly channels a completely different work of fiction: “Let’s go steal a small populace.”

It’s actually...very easy. “Isn’t the young lord’s wedding today?” asks the man left in charge while Jin Qixian, being a cousin of the family, is at that wedding. “Why aren’t you at that?”

“I didn’t practice my saber for a week and my brother got sooo angry.” Nie Huaisang pouts. “He forbade me from the party of the year, and gave me a job to do instead! It’s not fair - I’d be happy to do a favor for san-ge any other day!”

The lieutenant eyes the orders he’s been handed, in Jin Guangyao’s handwriting with Jin Guangyao’s signature. “Well, it does all seem to be in order.” He waves to the nearest guard. “Hey, start rounding up the prisoners - all of them!”

Nie Huaisang had two months, a lot of correspondence, and a great deal of practice imitating art styles. He’d been able to forge his own brother’s handwriting since was twelve - Jin Guangyao’s was much easier. Much neater

Nie Huaisang spotted the guard who’d been kind enough to let Granny come with A-Yuan, that first time, and pointed at him. “Make sure you get all the old people and babies and stuff, too! Anyone who can’t come on their own!

As Wens start to gather (be gathered) in the main square, most of the Nie cultivators clear a space and sketch out a large array in blood, a little from each cultivator’s hand. It’s wide enough for about forty people to stand in. When it’s done, Nie Huaisang nods to a disciple standing to the side with a bow. She leans back and shoots an arrow with a red ribbon into the sky. It vanishes in a spark of golden light

one of Nie Sect’s messenger arrows. It will land at Wen Qing’s feet in Qinghe to let her know that they’re on their way, and she can be ready with whatever medical care and reassurances she wants

He claps to get the muttering, anxious crowd’s attention, and can’t quite help but grin as he gets it. He gestures to the bloody array, reminiscent of a teleportation talisman on a grand scale. “All right, who wants to leave this terrible place where everyone hates you in exchange for a new terrible place where everyone hates you, travel by serving as the first test subjects of the Yiling Patriarch’s new mass-teleportation array?!”

[the hacker]

(a jest. Wei Wuxian definitely tested it first, on himself and a bunch of rabbits and himself+Jiang Cheng (in that order.) He promised.)

it’s a little out-of-character, but most of the guards who react just laugh meanly. And the Wens, hell yes, have been prepped. A handful protest, beg mercy or insist that this is their home, but for the most part, Nie Huaisang can recognize amateur acting when he sees it

thank goodness - they need a ratio of at least 1 participating cultivator to every 6 civilians to power the array, or the Nie cultivators supporting it from outside will exhaust themselves immediately

as the first group is going, a burst of light bright enough to blind, an arrow falls from the sky to Nie Huaisang’s feet. The note attached is from Liu Lifang: won’t take Lianfang-zun’s orders

aw, hell. He hesitates - another arrow lands, a green ribbon on the end. The first batch of Wens arrived safely in Qinghe

he passes both arrows to Zhao Huandi and murmurs, “I’m going to go sort this out. Make sure everyone gets through, stop it if something goes wrong with the teleportation. If something goes wrong with the Wens or the Jins...try not to kill anyone”

Zhao Huandi bows, turns and immediately starts shouting for the array to be checked for the next batch. Nie Huaisang makes some hasty, whining excuses to the Jin lieutenant, pulls out another teleportation, and-

arrives in the filthy refugee/prisoner city with a bit of the ache of an over-taxed golden core. He rests his hands on his knees for a moment, catching his breath

Still better than sword travel. He’s going to bother Wei Wuxian for these all the time, now

the woman left in charge in Jin Guangchao’s place is engaged in a staring glaring contest with Liu Lifang at their supervisory office. But have their arms crossed and the tension is so thick they’re both clearly itching to slice it with a sword

Nie Huaisang tumbles through the door with a whining, “What? Why did you call me?”

“I actually sent my message to Sect Leader Nie...” says Liu Lifang, with masterful confusion

“Well, he sent me,” Nie Huaisang complains. He turns to the other woman. “What’s the big deal? Da-ge said we should have a note for san-ge - that is, Jin Guangyao, Lianfang-zun - ”

She scowled even more darkly. “My orders come from Jin Guangchao and his from Sect Leader Jin Guangshan, not from Jin-zhongzhi’s bastard son”

[split-second thinking]

“Oh, but Guangyao-ge really knows what he’s doing,” said Nie Huaisang, wide-eyed. “He was so good at organizing everything, before da-ge had to banish him that one time” Bait...

“’So good’?” she challenges. “Then why’d he get banished at all?”

“Oh, you must have heard of my brother’s temper,” Nie Huaisang whines. “He gets so angry when one little thing goes wrong, and then Meng Yao - back then - did a pretty big thing...you’re so lucky Sect Leader Jin is more forgiving.” Hook...

“It would be terrible if Jin Guangyao did something to so anger Sect Leader Jin,” she said thoughtfully.

“I’m glad I doubt he ever would!” He gestured to the forged papers in Liu Lifang’s hand. “And as you can see, we have direct orders from him for you to release these prisoners into Nie Sect’s care - so won’t you do your duty and obey, so I can get back to my party?”

Do your duty, the orders themselves aren’t your responsibility, they’re his. The Jin cultivator nods slowly, then bows sharply, formal and faux-friendly. “Of course, Young Master Nie. How good of you to help your brother like this.”

Sinker.

(also not the worst idea, actually. a little dissension thrown into the Jin clan would be great)

Once again, most of the Wens are almost more willing the queue up than the guards are to make them, though many do blanch at the twenty-foot teleportation array drawn in blood (maximum power for minimal cost, Wei Wuxian had explained). A few are genuinely terrified of leaving; a few are almost certainly just enjoying the drama

a young man, as grubby as the rest and face hidden behind a shy curtain of hair, steps into the array without a flinch, and gives Nie Huaisang a subtle thumbs up. He waves back, just as underhanded, and lets slip a relieved sigh as he mentally crosses out “accidentally got her brother killed and/or captured/tortured/etc” on the list of reasons Wen Qing might kill him one day

[the thief spy]

(it hadn’t been easy to convince her to let him go in the first place. but really, Wen Ning was quick-thinking, trustworthy to all who met him, and good at staying hidden when he needed to. and they needed the Wens helping power the arrays, not to mention just not putting up a fight - everything going much quicker with word spread as to what was really happening. And, Nie Huaisang prided himself, it was just a little bit kinder)

this city’s worth were half gone to Qinghe when another messenger arrow landed at his feet in a burst of golden light. A purple ribbon - First Disciple Han Xiaoshi was done at Qiongqi Pass

she’d taken a much higher percentage of skilled warriors (not that all Nie Sect cultivators weren’t skilled warriors) than the other groups, as well as a “signed” note from Jin Guangyao. The work camp at Qiongqi Pass was the place Nie Huaisang least minded if the rescue of the Wens turned into a fight with the Jins. Sixth Uncle had taken nearly as long to get back into good health as Nie Mingjue, and he hadn’t liked hte way the inspectors smiled

[the hitter]

a few minutes later, a blue-ribboned arrow meant the first Qishan group was all through, too. Nie Huaisang and Liu Lifang’s group was the last to finish

they went with the last batch. One disciple stayed behind to clean it up and fly home - no point in sharing the Yiling Patriarch’s proprietary inventions with Jin Sect if they didn’t have to

the mass teleportation array is much worst than the single-use talisman. Nie Huaisang feels like he’s been turned upside-down and inside-out, and wrung out like a wet cloth besides. Golden core, more like yellowish pith. He does his best to stay standing

he’s knocked flat by the impact of a small mass slamming into his shins at high speed. “Sang-ge! Sang-ge! You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! Was it fun? Where are your pretty clothes?”

“My extra pretty clothes are in my qiankun bag, A-Yuan.” He pushed himself to sit up, and attempts to distangle the toddler from his legs. “Which is good, because you’re getting my normal pretty clothes all dirty on the ground!”

A-Yuan squeezed him even tighter, to show that nobody was the boss of him, then sprang away with his hands behind his back, looking like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. That, too, lasted for about half a second before the boy was bouncing in place again. “Did you know that Uncle Four is here now, and Auntie Three, and Zhui Li and Mengmeng and Han Yao got a puppy - ”

“A-Yuan, stop harassing the poor man!” Granny hurried up behind him at a much slower pace than a toddler could manage. She bows, over A-Yuan-head, eyes shining. “Young Master Nie has done a great service for us this day. You should be saying thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” he says, dreaming briefly of sliding a sword through Jin Guangshan’s throat. He forces himself to stand - the world has mostly stopped swimming - and pulls her upright, and pokes A-Yuan with his foot so he follows suit. “A-Yuan was just giving me a report - yes, we’re the last batch!” he calls to a cultivator approaching with a querulous expression. “You’d better send an arrow to da-ge to tell him that it’s all okay!”

Second Disciple Ling Jiaoshi nods and scribbles out a note, and hands it to a junior trailing behind him with a bow and arrow

behind them, around them, about five hundred Wens and Wen-associated people are milling around a deep valley tucked into Qinghe’s mountains. Most are avoiding the three great arrays painted in blood in the center of a some fields, mirrors to the ones in Qishan and Qiongqi Pass, though the landing sites will be inactive with their pairs destroyed. Many are exclaiming to see family and friends again, or looking around in wary uncertainty, or both. The main source of order is being imposed by the multiple triage tents, sorting out who needs medical attention and who just needs a blanket and hearty meal. Nie Huaisang can hear the Chief Physician yelling at someone in the distance

A-Yuan tugs on his hand and repeats accusatorially, “You didn’t say everyone was going to be at the wedding! That must have been so big! Are we all staying with Sang-ge and Miss Yi now? And Aunt Qing and Uncle Ning and Uncle Nie-Who-Needs-Quiet?” His eyes widen and he tugs even harder. “Did you bring new candy?!”

Nie Huaisang laughs and pulls from one pocket a silk flag in brilliant red, filched from the wedding decorations. “No, but I did get material for a new fan. Do you want to help me paint it?”

To be concluded with a brief epilogue!

#mdzs #the untamed #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #a yuan #UH #THIS WAS...LONGER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE #BY A COUPLE THOUSAND WORDS I'M NOT GONNA LIE #I HAD TO GO TO SLEEP BEFORE FINISHING EVERYTHING #i just wanted...jiang yanli to have fun...and then the nie bros were almost kind of discussing feelings...#and then we still had to pull off the heist...

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harryhoney-bee · 5 years ago

Text

Whatever you say, Miss.

You are the inspiration to the song “Carolina”

3k words.

Masterlist

It was a Saturday night, the first one Harry had free since the album was released. All he had in mind was to chill, watch a romantic movie, maybe read a little, but all his plans were rejected as soon as he received a text message call from his friend Gilland Jone.

“Hey man, up for a get-together?” – G

“When? Right now?” – H

“Yeah, it’s a pub here in LA, not too far from your place, come, it will be fun. There someone I want you to meet either” – G

“Who is the person?” – H

“Not telling you, silly. Consider this a blind date. But seriously, come, not just for the date, but for the fun, it’s Saturday night anyway”

Harry thought about that for a while, but he replied right away, wanting to know the address. What the worst that could happen?

Taking the stairs to get to the second floor, where his room was, Harry opens his closet, wearing a red flower t-shirt and skinny jeans. After that he goes immediately to his car, just stopping to grab his keys and wallet on the way.

Heading down to the pub, he starts to think to himself about the person he was about to meet. He has been on a couple of blind dates before, but they weren’t necessarily good, the girls he met before were often fangirling about him, which made him uncomfortable. All he wanted was just to be Harry, not THE Harry Styles. He was confident this night would bring this to him.

As Harry gets out of his thoughts, he realized he was already near to the pub. So, he just searches for a free parking space, finding one right in front of the pub. He locks the car and goes straight for the door. From the outside was possible to hear the loud music, the chats, and the laughs, Harry gets more excited than ever.

As he enters, all the sound gets more vivid, he sees people dancing, recognize ones, others don’t. He meets friends in the industry that he hasn’t seen in a long time, like Zack Braff. The two chat for a while but are interrupted by Gilland.

“Hi, Harry! You came!”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Hey Zack, let me borrow Harry for a bit”

Then she grabs his shoulder moving him to the back of the pub, not giving time for Zack to respond.

“Harry, all the drinks tonight are on me, so make yourself at home, and don’t worry, after you got in, I asked for the security to not let anyone inside. So, there won’t be any crazy fan”

“Thanks, Gill, all that I could ask for, a night out and free drinks,” He says that with a laugh.

“But don’t drink too much sir”

“Of course, I won’t, Miss”

She just chuckles and turns his back from him, to go with her friends, but his hand on her shoulder prevents her from doing so.

“What about the blind date? Is the girl already here?”

Gill just looking around, with a questioning glance.

“She was right there,” She says pointing to the very last sit, between the wall and the bar. “She is probably in the bathroom, sit next to the sit, she must be out any minute. Now I must go, bye��.

Harry tried to stop her again, how he is going to know who the girl was? Isn’t Gill, the one who arranged everything to introduce them? But he just gives up, once she was already mixed in the crowd.

He just shrugs, and goes sit next to the sit Gill pointed, when the girl arrived, he just must introduce himself. As he sits by the bar counter and asks for a martini.

While the bartender was making the drink, somebody just takes the seat next to him, he looks at her almost instantly, she smiles at him and the bartender leaves the martini in front of Harry before he goes, the girl grabs one of the arms of the man.

“Excuse, could you make me a martini too? With a lit bit more of alcohol, please” She says while smiling

“Yeah miss, right away” And leave both strangers alone for the first time in the night.

“So, you must be Gill’s friend? Right?” He says smiling, giving his hand a shake. She retributes, shaking his hands with her tiny fingers.

“Well, I am her younger sister. You must be my blind date, Harry?” She says at the same times she drinks from her martini, that has just arrived.

“That must be me, nice to meet ya” Harry respond, looking straight at her eyes, they were beautiful, at the bottom of them were a little bit of mascara, but strangely, in her didn’t seem like a mistake or a miscue, It made her look like a warrior or something, even do she was wearing a feminine, black dress.

“I am (y/n), glad to meet you as well” (y/n) says while looking at him, damn, her sister was right, he is attractive, he smiles is beautiful, and those eyes, dammit. “Nice shirt, by the way” (y/n) continues.

“Thanks, it’s one of my favorites” and chucks. “So… extra alcohol on the martini?”

“A little bit more of alcohol won’t do any harm, plus, I am proud to say, I have a great intolerance to the boozes” (y/n) says with a cocky smile, harry just laughs.

“Well, this certainly is proud material” Harry responded, “Since you are alcohol proof, you must know a lot of drinks, so, tell me, what do you think I should ask next?”

(y/n) puts her hand on her chin, as she was thinking hard, and as she does that, she notices Harry’s eyes going directly to her mouth, and she does like this attention. “I would say, bloody Mary”

“Whatever you say, Miss” And he waves at the bartender and asks two bloody Maries.

“So, where did you meet my sister?” (y/n) says, looking at Harry, before moving to his eyes, she gives a short glance at his lips, they were so pink. She starts to think they both kissing, that would be a great end of the night.

The glance she gives Harry is not unnoticed by him, he smirks and answers her question. At the same time, the bloody Maries arrived.

“We met a long time, in one of those after parties, she got friends with me because… well, both of us like partying a lot, but I guaranty you, alcohol immune it’s not something in the DNA of you sister. ‘Cause at the end of the night I end with puke in my suit” Harry says laughing, remember the day, it’s was kind of disgusting, but the party was really good.

(y/n) laughs hard, and Harry just looks at her, she was such a pretty woman.

“Oh my God, she never told me this story! I am going to tease her for the rest of her life!” Then, she ends her untouched bloody Mary with just one sip.

Harry looks at with wide eyes.

“wow wow, easy tiger” And he pats her back slightly.

“I am okay, no worries. You are looking like that because you never see me in one of the college parties, I am worse than Ethan Hawkings, you know?”

“What are you studying in college and also, who is Ethan Hawkings?” Harry crossed his eyebrows, not knowing what she was saying, and he gives a sip of the bloody mary.

“I am studying philosophy, and Ethan it’s the character of a book I love!”

“hmm, so we got a pretty alcoholic philosopher bookworm right here,” He says and looks her deeply in her eyes, giving the gulp that ends his drink.

“I think we could say that, yeah” She giggles, reciprocating the look he gave her.

“Where do you go to college? Here in LA?”

“Yeah, I started college back in my home state, Carolina, but I just got enough of there, but I was confused, not knowing if I would be able to move from home. So, I went to my gramma and she said (y/n), better swimming before you drown, after that, I called my sister, so I move in with her, and I asked my transferring papers to the University of LA. And here I am” She said, with that cocky smile again.

“I think we can add audacious to your quality list,” Harry said, moving his sit closer to her, which (y/n) liked very much.

“My mom doesn’t think this is a quality though, she says I am the death of her with my reckless behavior. But what can I do? I am Just listening to the older and swimming before I drown”.

“I think you are right,” Harry said with a smirk.

“Hey, do you want to go out? I saw a large party going on the house of my neighbor, we could be there” (y/n) says this getting near to Harry’s mouth.

Harry gets even closer but turns the way to her ears and says with a whisper “Whatever you say, Miss”.

She jumps from the sit and goes in the direction of the door, but harry holds her arms gently “Darling, there are probably paps outside, do you mind leaving with the back door? We can get a cab or something.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

He looks at her and just smirks.

The pair go outside by the back door and get in the first cab they can.

While getting in, (y/n) says the address to the drives, which has kind of close, in Beverly Hills. Harry got a little sad, he wouldn’t mind being with her in such a small place as the back seat of a car. They did just normal conversation and just sang along with the songs on the radio.

They got in the location and split the bill of the cab. As they got out of the car (y/n) pointed at two big white houses.

“We live in here, and there it’s my neighbor party, let’s go.” She grabbed him by the arm.

“Were you invited to this party?” Harry askes

“Nope.” (y/n) answer.

“That’s what I thought, acting like a bad girl”

“I am not a bad girl, I am audacious,” She says that on her tiptoes, facing his face. “Am I right?”

“Huh, Whatever you say, Miss” And he puts a hand on her waits, bringing her closer, she leans and just packs his lips, Harry wanted to do so much more, but before he could grab her tighter, she just went in the direction of the party. And he follows her, she had him wrapped around her finger already.

As they got into the house, (y/n) goes directly to the drinks, catching one for Harry as well. They went to sit on the couch near the pool of the house. There weren’t a lot of people in there, but the few that have didn’t seem to notice the intruders.

“I am so excited, I am feeling like one of the characters of the books I read” (y/n) says “The one I read about getting into others people’s house didn’t end well, but, fuck right?” As she says that, she puts both hands in the back of his neck, bringing their lips together.

Finally, Harry thought to himself.

When their tongues met for the first time, a shiver went through Harry’s body, he puts his hand on the back of her hips, bringer her closer. They broke the kiss to catch their air.

“Will you stay in LA when you finish college?” Harry asks, taking away the blurred lipstick from her mouth.

“Probably not, I never see myself like one of the cali girls, you know, never see myself as someone living in this part of America.”

“So where do you see yourself living?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know, everywhere?” She says giggling “What about you? Where do you see yourself living?”

“Don’t know darling, anywhere I can do my music, like Jamaica, Japan, here… But whenever I go, I know I won’t be going too long, always get to go to England to mum” He chuckles and she smiles at him, kissing again.

In the middle of the kiss hears somebody shouting, the people were doing the “Throw him in the pool” kind of prank.

“We better get out of here before someone see us,” Harry says, holding her hand.

“Yeah” She responds.

But as they were going to the house, she pushes him into the pool.

Harry falls unexpectedly, he emerges and looks at her, she had a cocky smile on her lips.

She stands in the same place, as he makes his way out of the pool, currently, everybody notices them, but they were too drunk to care.

Harry gets closer to her, she tries to run, but he grabs her firmly at her hips, he brings his lips to her ear, licking them slightly.

“So, you think it’s cool to throw people in the pool, darling?” He grabs more firmly at her hips “You are lucky you are cute”

She gives him his cocky smile again.

“Do you want to go to my place? It’s the house next door” she says, his hands still on her.

“Yeah, darling. Do you go some clothes for me to change there, though?” He says letting go of her hips, following her as she walks out of the pool area.

As he says that, she turns immediately.

“You won’t need clothes for what we are going to do there, darling. Wait here and I will get you clothes.”

“Wait where are you going? Please do not break into your neighbor or…”

But the girl was soon gone into the stairs.

Harry just stands there.

Some minutes later she gives him a simple t-shirt and men’s shorts.

“Please don’t tell me you stole this” Harry said, already knowing the answer.

“Don’t worry, he won’t notice, his closet is bigger than mine”

Harry just rolls his eyes.

“Now come on Brit boy, let me help you get out of these wet clothes” Harry does like that.

Both of them walk fast to the house next door, as (y/n) opens the door, Harry closes it fast, taking the girl in his arms and putting her against the door.

Harry goes directly to the region of her neck, sucking urgently, the girl just moans and says “Let’s go to my room yeah? It’s better, it’s the first door on the second floor”.

Harry takes on his arms, now kissing her, while going in the direction of the room, he opens the door, and puts her on the bed, staying up.

“I would love the help with the clothes now, darling, I want to make another thing wet, not your bed,” Harry says with a smirk.

He leaves a space, so she can seat, and the girl helps him taking the t-shirt, leaving it on the floor, as she goes does to his trousers, she can already see the excess of Harry’s pants, squeezing it.

As she manages to have him only on his boxers, he hovers over her. Leaving kisses on her collarbone, he leaves hickeys, to make her remember. Both now they won’t see each other again, she is just free.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me, darling? I’ve seen the way you look at me since the put” She just moans from the kisses.

His lips are so soft, but they can be so hard. Everywhere he puts his lips left a mark on his tongue. Oh, this tongue.

He keeps kissing, this time putting his hand on her belly skin, grabbing lazily at her ribbons.

“What about taking this little dress off, darling? Do you want that?” He askes lazily, moving now to her ears, licking them unhurried.

“Yeah, please, please take off” (y/n) says between moans.

“Please, huh?” She can feel him smirking on the side of her neck.

He stops the kissing, griping at the end of the dress, he pulls it slowly, wanting to watch her body, her tights, her red panties, her belly, and oh those tits.

Her body reveals to him, and it’s just the feeling of delight.

“Such good tits, such a good body, so so beautiful”

He then starts to kiss her belly, leaving a trail of his tongue, until he meets his goes, he starts to suck firmly on her nipples. Her hands go directly to his hair. She moans, the things he can do with his mouth are marvelous.

As he sucks on her little pink nipples, he presses his tongue side to side, wanting to feel her little bud getting harder and harder each time.

He alternates to the boob, doing the same thing with the breast he left, he starts squeezing it, pinching the nipple hard.

“Yeah Harry, right here” (y/n) moans

Harry moves to her neck again, but (y/n) changes positions with him.

“Now you wanna be up huh?” Harry says with a smirk, but it disappears as she starts sucking on his neck. Her month is urgent, but her tongue is relaxed.

She wants to feel him, taste him, get him wasted.

“Huh, Darling, so good” Harry moans.

(y/n) start going down on his body, licking and kissing every singles part of his delicious torso. She makes her way until she gets to the best part, she takes his boxer off, showing her all of him. She was amazed. His cock was thick, hard, and big. She could feel the excess veins on.

(y/n) starting to touch him, first in the big head, just with her fingertips, just to spread the pre-cum.

“You are so big, so tick, can already imagine you feeling me in with every inch, Harry. You will feel so good” She says that leaking his neck.

Harry can’t say anything, he wants to feel her, wants to feel her hand, her mouth, her cunt, everything, everything she has to offer.

She keeps kissing his neck, but this time, she starts to move her hand, up and down, tight and slowly, like sweet torture.

“How does my hand feel around your cock? Tell me” She starts to kiss his collarbone.

“So good darling, please”

She goes down until she replaces her hands with her lips, she starts feeling his head, tasting his pre-cum, then she gets inch after inch.

“Gonna put all my cock in this little dirty mouth, pet?” Harry howls.

Harry grabs (y/n)’s hair, commanding the speed and the deepness. Such a good girl.

As he feels himself close, he takes her mouth off his cock, she does a pout, and then he explains while grabbing her, making her bareback meet the mattress.

“Wan’ to be inside your little cunt, can I pet?” He asks brushing his lips on her ears

“Yes, please.” (y/n) bagged

Harry take the only piece of fabric there was on her lovely body.

Harry starts rubbing her clit. He puts two fingers in her entrance, starting to move lazily.

“Need to feel if you are wet enough, right pet? Need to stretch out this cunt a little bit.”

“Just go, please, need ya.”

“I need ya to pet, come on”

Harry puts his cock head on her little cunt.

“Nice and slow pet, you will be ok.” He says, stretches her out with his cock, inch by inch. She feels so good. So warm, so tight.

“I am all in, pet.”

“Move please, move slowly, need to feel you.”

Harry does as tell, started to move bit by bit, he wanted to feel every part of her walls, the way they accepted his thick cock in her narrow pussy.

“You are so good Harry, can feel your veins, everything, you feel like home, need more Harry”

Harry goes fast, and (y/n) can feel his pubs contacting with her clit, every time he would push him out, just to be in again.

He starts to rub her little bottom, seeing her like that, all fucked up, moaning, dripping sweat, it was the prettiest view. He soon will be wasted.

“Do you like the way my cock feels inside you, pet? So good right, you are such a good girl, darling, come on, cum for me. Will ya?”

With those filth words leaving Harry’s lips, she just can’t, her wall starts to swallow his cock, squeezing him even more. He rubs her clit a little more and she is a goner.

Her body starts to flutter, and the moans get higher as she released herself to him.

“Shh, calm down pet, I got you”

Harry gives more trust, feeling her pussy embrace him with little spasms. And he feels his milk leaving his cock, getting into her pink walls.

Harry puts himself over her, sharing his weight with the bed, still inside her. Feeling her one last time. She feels so good.

“I am gonna take off, darling”

She starts to mumble

“Shh, it’s ok, hold on pet”

He gets off her and lays by her sad in her bed. He pets her cheeks.

“Hey, are you alright?” harry askes

“Yeah, just really fucked up,” She says laughing to look at me

And both laugh together for the last time. And it just felt right.

On the next day, (y/n) wake up with a little card on her pillow.

Hope you always retain your freedom and audacity. You are the universe in form of a girl.

Hope I am one of the characters of your books, cause now, you surely are a melody to one of my songs.

Love H.

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ibijau · 4 years ago

Text

A continuation of NHS being revealed as half-demon after the Sunshot Campaign. Since I don’t think we ever see any demons in mdzs, I tried to borrow from Scum Villain for the general attitude towards them

With a frantic nervousness he could not quite contain, Nie Huaisang rearranged his hair once more, only for it to come out as ridiculous as everything he'd already tried. He'd spent hours on this, desperate attempts to hide what everyone would know was there anyway. He was tempted to beg his brother to buy him some white powder, even though he'd already tried that back in Qinghe, with little success. The mark on his forehead had shined through the makeup, bright red.

A stupid hairdo really was his only chance to keep it away from prying eyes, but to show himself looking so stupid, and in Carp Tower of all places was…

Catching a glimpse of himself in the copper mirror he'd been using, Nie Huaisang let out a frustrated groan. After being teased for years over his vanity, his own reflection was now so hateful to him that he grabbed that innocent mirror and threw it at the inn's wall just as Nie Mingjue entered the room.

His brother gave him on long, unimpressed look before picking up the mirror.

"Do your hair properly, and do it quick. I'd rather not be late."

"I'm not going," Nie Huaisang announced, but he still started combing his hair in a more acceptable fashion. "What's the point anyway? If I'm here, it'll just make everything harder."

Nie Mingjue handed him back the mirror, but stole the comb from his hand and sat behind him. Nie Huaisang couldn't help a shiver as his brother started brushing his hair, then separating some strands for the rest so they could be braided. It had been years since Nie Mingjue had done this for him. He had never thought to miss him, too proud of finally being old enough to do it himself, but there was a comfort in being taken care of in this way.

"You have to be here," Nie Mingjue said as he started braiding. "You are not a danger to anyone. One incident doesn't make you dangerous."

"There could be other incidents," Nie Huaisang muttered. "If you got hurt again…"

"I won't."

In spite of his mood, Nie Huaisang snorted at hid brother's assurance. At the same time, if there was one man capable of making such a promise, it was Nie Mingjue. The only people who had ever managed to hurt him had been Wen Ruohan at the height of his power, and one lucky yet impossibly unfortunate Wen cultivator whom Nie Huaisang had promptly…

He shivered at the memory. It was still unclear to him where that power had come from, or how he had unleashed it with such rageful precision. But it had been there, and he could still feel it thruming within him every time his emotions grew too strong. So far, it had never exploded again. It might, though. Nie Huaisang had spent the last few weeks in fear of himself.

"What do you think they'll say?" Nie Huaisang whispered.

"Nothing if they're smart," Nie Mingjue barked, starting another braid and pulling a little too hard. "You've done nothing wrong. You did not harm anyone on our side, that's more than Wei Wuxian can say."

"But Wei Wuxian is human."

Nie Mingjue's hands stilled on his hair. They both tried to avoid a certain word when they spoke about the matter, but avoiding it didn't change the truth.

"You're human too," Nie Mingjue claimed, his hands resuming their movement. "Human enough, and raised as one. You are Qinghe Nie's second master, you are my heir until I get children. You are one of us, and anyone who attacks my brother will have to deal with me."

That was exactly what scared Nie Huaisang, although he judged it wiser to keep quiet. But in protecting him, Nie Mingjue might be endangered, and it was the sight of him wounded and bleeding which had awakened Nie Huaisang’s nature. They had been lucky the first time, the people he had slaughtered had been enemies to all. But if someone else harmed Nie Mingjue, if Nie Huaisang became enraged and killed allies…

The Great Four Clans rarely had dealings with demons, but smaller ones situated in wilder places did, and bore them little love. They would take offence to seeing a member of this despised race treated as an equal, as a superior even. It would create trouble. After all they were cultivators. Bickering over imagined slights was what they all did best.

"I really think it'd be best if I didn't come," Nie Huaisang repeated.

"They have to see you're not dangerous. And I cannot leave you alone. I'm not taking that risk. If some idiot decides to attack you while I'm gone, you'll end up dead or in serious trouble."

Nie Huaisang sighed but did not insist, and allowed his brother to finish doing his hair in silence. When Nie Mingjue was finished, he checked himself in the mirror. The braids were elegant, almost dainty, just the way he liked to do them for himself and which got him scolded sometimes… But all Nie Huaisang could really see was that burning mark on his skin, like the brand of a criminal.

It was going to be one very unpleasant conference.

Officially, the reason so many clans, large and small, had made it to Lanling on such short notice was that with the war over, many matters needed to be settled. But even a fool would have noticed how conversations dropped the instant Nie Huaisang and his brother entered the halls, the way everyone's attention turned their way. It was not exactly new of course, because Nie Mingjue was the sort of man who nobody could ignore. If Nie Huaisang tried very hard, he could pretend it was his brother they were looking at.

“Stay close,” Nie Mingjue ordered as they walked to greet their host. “Don’t make waves.”

The same orders as always, and it comforted Nie Huaisang a little. He could tell himself everything was the same, that nobody was staring at his forehead, that they weren’t whispering about him with expressions going from fear to disgust. Maybe he should have come with that stupid hairdo he’d tried, just so people would at least have a better reason to stare.

Still, among all those faces turned on him, at least one broke into a smile. Certainly Wei Wuxian was the center of enough fear and suspicion that his support would mean little, but Nie Huaisang still felt relieved. At least one person out there treated him normally. Two people in fact, since Jiang Cheng, noticing his brother's smile, gave Nie Huaisang a stern nod. Coming from him, it was the equivalent of shouting Nie Huaisang’s name while waving at him. And Lan Xichen had promised his support of course, as had Jin Guangyao, and… And there was Mingjue at his side of course.

Nie Huaisang wasn't alone, and as long as he ket his calm, everything would be fine.

When they arrived before Jin Guangshan, both brothers bowed. Nie Huaisang made an extra effort to keep his movements graceful, as much as a woman's, hoping to demonstrate how utterly harmless he was even though two dozen cultivators of all ranks could testify otherwise.

"Sect Leader Nie, it is a pleasure to have you here," Jin Guangshan announced, lying through his teeth as always. Nie Huaisang rarely minded politics, but even he had to notice certain things. Then, to his shock and horror, Jin Guangshan looked at him, and smiled. "Second Master Nie, I'm glad you could make it as well."

Nie Huaisang’s mind went blank at being addressed this way. As far as he could remember, Jin Guangshan had never said a word to him before, rightfully judging that the bastard second master of Qinghe Nie was beneath his consideration. It took Nie Mingjue elbowing him in the ribs to get him out of his daze, pushing him to mumble some words of thanks for the warm welcome.

Thankfully Jin Guangshan did not push for more conversation at that moment, and they were able to go take their seats. A few more sects arrived after them, but soon enough everyone was there and the debates could start. Usually Nie Huaisang paid little attention to those conferences. If at all possible, he liked to bring a book to keep on his lap, hidden from other cultivators and from his brother. Otherwise he daydreamed, or observed the outfits of other guests, hoping that soon enough he’d have a chance to complain about them with Jiang Cheng. But that day, Nie Huaisang forced himself to listen to that tedious, boring litany of territory disputes and petty problems. Through it all, he could still feel eyes on him.

After a while of nothing but insignificant arguments, Nie Huaisang started relaxing a little. Nothing important seemed to be happening, and there was still time to look around and be judgmental of at least some outfits. He looked around for Sect Leader Yao, always certain to provide a few faux-pas to laugh about with Jiang Cheng. Indeed, that day the insufferable man was wearing an outer robe with a most atrocious pattern, and…

“It has been hard enough to fight off demons in the past,” a voice said, instantly drawing Nie Huaisang’s attention back to the conversation. “How are we going to deal with them once they learn that some major sects are willing to offer them help and protection?”

Nie Huaisang felt his stomach flip at the accusation, one rather more direct than he’d have expected to hear, but did his best to keep his composure when all eyes turned on him again. He looked for the man who had spoken, and found that it was someone he did not know. A small, outer sect then. Judging by where he was seated and the look of horrified embarrassment on Jin Guangyao’s face, he must have been linked to Lanling Jin to some degree. Nie Huaisang looked at his brother who ignored him, as if none of this concerned them.

“I’m sure nobody here would offer assistance to demons,” Jin Guangshan assured that sect leader, and he too made efforts not to look at Nie Huaisang. “It goes against the principles of every decent sect to collude with those creatures. I know what stories you might have heard, Sect Leader Ling, and I assure you they are being investigated, but demons are still not tolerated anywhere.”

“And yet there’s one sitting among us right now!”

Nie Huaisang tensed, and looked down at his lap, hoping against all hope that if he lowered his head enough, the mark would become less visible. Next to him, his brother chose instead to sit straighter, if such a thing were possible.

“I will hear no idle accusations made against my brother,” Nie Mingjue warned with worrying calm. “Nie Huaisang is a member of Qinghe Nie and will be treated as such.”

“So you do claim that creature as your own blood?” Sect Leader Ling asked.

“If Nie Huaisang did any evil, the principles of Qinghe Nie would dictate that he face justice for it. Those same principles also state that no injustice will be tolerated against the innocent. Unless he starts acting in a way that demands punishment, my brother is my brother. The details of his birth do not change that.”

“You will protect a demon!”

“Only if anyone is foolish enough to threaten him without cause,” Nie Mingjue said.

Whispers rose from amongst the assembled cultivators and Nie Huaisang wished he hadn’t come. In his absence, Nie Mingjue’s words would have had more impact, people would only have thought of Nie Huaisang as the short, foolish boy who always trailed behind his brother and laughed too loud sometimes. But being there, it was impossible for them not to see the mark on his forehead, and thus it was impossible not to see what he was.

In his absence, Nie Mingjue’s words would have come off as legitimate protectiveness. Instead, they were taken as arrogance, as rebellion even. For the leader of such a great sect to show himself with a demon at his side…

“No one is threatening anyone,” Jin Guangshan intervened with a good natured laugh, as if he were merely breaking a squabble between children. “Sect Leader Ling’s concerns are not baseless, but Sect Leader Nie is right as well. As I understand it, there has only been one incident involving his brother, and it was in legitimate defence, wasn’t it?”

He looked at Jin Guangyao who smiled at his father and nodded.

“There was an ambush, and Nie Huaisang saved many lives by defeating some Wen cultivators who had previously escaped capture,” Jin Guangyao stated. “I am sure all of us who were present that day are very grateful for his quick intervention and we do not care how he happened to protect us.”

He said that with such conviction that Nie Huaisang himself would have believed him, if he hadn't seen how even Qinghe Nie disciples avoided him since that day, how servants at home refused to approach him. Even Lan Xichen had flinched when during a conversation Nie Huaisang had carelessly touched him, as he always did. The only person to show no disgust was Nie Mingjue, but even that might still change.

"Isn't that just the same as admitting he's dangerous?" Sect Leader Ling objected. "He's had his first taste of blood now. I've fought enough demons to tell you once they learn to kill, there's no going back. It's their nature, they are vicious."

Had the situation not been so dire, Nie Huaisang might have laughed. He had never liked violence much, and now less than ever. He still shivered in horror every time he thought about that incident and the things he'd done.

And yet, part of him did not hate it as much as he should have. Blood and death still made him faint, but the thrill of having protected his brother, of being the stronger one for once, of returning the favour at last after a lifetime of hiding behind Nie Mingjue at the first sign of trouble…

But that did not make him a monster, did it? It was normal to wish to protect his brother, it did not make him bloodthirsty and wild, did it?

On the other side of Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen rose from his seat, calm and elegant as always but with a rare hardness to his smile.

"Sect Leader Ling, do you really wish to bring people's nature into this?" he asked. "The nature of humans is to be weak and die early. Yet as cultivators we all seek to avoid that fate, to reach great strength and acquire immortality. If we can go against our own nature and be accepted and encouraged by our peers, Nie Huaisang should deserve the same chance. I have known him for years and never once saw him act with cruelty. My uncle taught him and never saw a trace of evil within him, or he would have taken appropriate measures. Is there anyone here who has reproaches to make, not on what Nie Huaisang could do, but on what he has already done?"

As he sat down again, silence fell all around. Nie Huaisang could have kissed Lan Xichen for defending him this way, and he saw his brother relax a little as well. No matter how strong it had become, Qinghe Nie was still a butcher's sect. But Gusu Lan had a spotless reputation for purity and righteousness, so its leader's defence of Nie Huaisang hit differently. Even sect leader Ling appeared more hesitant after this.

“I have said what I had to say on this matter!” he claimed, glaring first at Lan Xichen, then at the Nie brothers. “Give a demon all the chances you like, if you think it can become other than what it is. When it turns against you, do not come crying for help.”

Apparently satisfied with his intervention, sect leader Ling allowed the matter to be dropped. There was a moment of awkwardness as no one could quite figure out how to go on with the conference after so much tension. But quickly enough sect leader Yao, bless him, appeared to remember that he had no sense of shame and simply started complaining about a dispute he had with a neighbouring sect. Everyone was forced to listen to that annoying man, while Nie Huaisang allowed himself to relax and risked a glance at his brother. Nie Mingjue still looked deeply unhappy, but he managed a tense smile when their eyes met.

The situation wasn’t ideal, but they could do this. They still had friends, and even if they ended up losing those friends, they would at least have each other.

#nie huaisang #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jin guangyao #jin guangshan #mdzs #jau writes #demon nhs #100% my motivation to write this was the idea of nhs trying on increasingly stupid hairdos to hide his demon mark #the rest is just decoration

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ftcoye · 4 years ago

Text

[Ao3 Link.] - for @gusurabbit, a semi-sequel to eyes bright.

Jiang Cheng can’t remember the last time he had a moment to breathe.

Sunshot is done – it is done, it is finished, the Wens are dead and buried and will never haunt anyone again. Every single Jiang body that could been recovered has been, and they are buried and hopefully their spirits will be at rest. He has disciples, some who have grown advanced enough during the campaign to teach the others, others who have come and joined from disbanded or destroyed sects, so he no longer has to teach.

(Which. He is so incredibly grateful for because he never realized quite how little teaching was his thing. Wei Wuxian should have been helping him as head disciple, should have been teaching alongside him and teasing him every single moment and most likely being far far better at it like he always was before, but his brother does not do that, not now, perhaps not ever again. He is distant and cold and still awakes screaming, and is so fundamentally changed that sometimes Jiang Cheng wonders if his brother will ever come back to him again.)

(The resentful energy churns around him and Jiang Cheng feels worried anger bloom in his chest and can’t bring himself to voice it.)

So when Nie Huaisang stops by for a visit, Jiang Cheng leaps at the chance to take a break.

He gives his friend a personal tour of the rebuilt Pier, and Nie Huaisang makes all the appropriate noises and appropriate comments – about how it’s similar, about how they kept it so very much the same, but also noting the differences, noting where they changed it just slightly. Sometimes it was practicality – no one remembered the exact carvings here, so instead of attempting something half remembered but far enough it would be painful, better to start with something new.

“Attempt the impossible, indeed,” Nie Huaisang had said, fan in front of his mouth and eyes glimmering with an emotion Jiang Cheng couldn’t quite place. “It looks good, Sect Leader Jiang.”

The last time he and Nie Huaisang had truly spoken, had truly had a conversation and not a brief few bits of spoken words in a tent while plotting for what lied ahead, it had been standing before a bed in Qinghe Nie, of confessions and whispers and worries. Of gentle touch and A-Cheng and A-Sang.

He hadn’t given him an answer, then. Maybe he didn’t get to be A-Cheng anymore – maybe Nie Huaisang didn’t want him to be.

So Jiang Cheng had swallowed around the bitter shards in his throat, the thick dryness that scratched and bled, and hadn’t said a word. “Nie Huaisang,” he had greeted when the other had arrived, for there were others around and he didn’t have a thick enough face to try for that emotion of what was - years ago, now, it had been not quite two years – and he was glad he had not even considered trying.

If he reached out and Nie Huaisang slapped that hand-

Jiang Cheng continued with his tour.

They roamed the docks and the halls, in and out of every room – running into many disciples along the way, who all bowed and hastily got out of their way, as well as Jiejie. She greeted both with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes, promising a good dinner and inviting Nie Huaisang to stay as long as he wanted, their words a dance between them, an easy flow of those far more diplomatic than Jiang Cheng could ever strive to be.

(Which is fine. He has Jiejie by his side to handle that part for him, after all.)

Wei Wuxian is nowhere to be found, not even the faintest scrap of a red ribbon around the corner or resentful energy lingering like dust, and Jiang Cheng tries to be angry about it. He is angry about it – but it is anger borne of worry rather than true anger, and he’s angry about that being the case, too. Too many times gone, too many times vanished, returning with corpses on his arms and no light in his eyes, and-

Nie Huaisang rests a hand on his arm, gently, in this current present, and Jiang Cheng forces himself to breathe.

“That’s everything,” he says.

“Okay,” says Nie Huaisang.

They drift to the a corner of Lotus Pier, unspoken – the two of them, side by side, one of Jiang Cheng’s arms resting behind his back, the other at his side. One of Nie Huaisang’s hands rest on that arm, the other holding his fan, and they walk.

It is private – or as private as Lotus Pier can be. From the way the disciples have scurried, Jiang Cheng doubts any will dare disturb them, so he regretfully pulls his arm away to take off his boots, sitting down at the edge of the dock and letting his feet slip into the cold water. After a moment of hesitation, Nie Huaisang does the same.

They’re quiet for a moment – it’s hot, the summer heat starting to beat down as the sun starts to rise to its peak, and the cool of the water is refreshing. “You remember Lotus Pier pretty well,” he says.

Nie Huaisang glances over him from the top of his fan. He hasn’t quite put it down yet, almost shielding himself with it, and Jiang Cheng wants to take it from him. “I always remember beautiful things,” he says, his eyes crinkling in a smile.

Jiang Cheng can’t help it – he snorts. “You really wanted to study here, huh?”

He groans. “Yes, I did! You don’t know how bad I wanted to ask!”

“Your brother would’ve never let you, Chen Caihong was-“ Jiang Cheng stops, suddenly. Nie Huaisang quiets as well.

It’s easy, to think back to those days – when the worries they had were not comparable to the worries they’ve had as of recent. When Nie Huaisang could proclaim he’d study at Gusu, and another student – one whose name Jiang Cheng barely remembers – could laugh and tell him Nie Mingjue would never allow it, and they all knew he was right. He only remembers because one time Jiang Cheng let him borrow his notes and Jiang Cheng never remembered to return them, and he found them among other things in the broken, ashy wreckage of his room when he returned.

Chen Caihong had died, in the Sunshot Campaign. So many had – so many of their Gusu memories were tainted with blood, of corpses with frozen laughter of the past on their lips who took no breaths in the present. How many people had Jiang Cheng forgotten, barely remembered, who had died on the field? How many went unburied? Had his brother desecrated any of them, bringing them back to wage war on those who killed them?

How many had everyone forgotten? How many had no one to mourn them?

They both sit there, still – Gusu may be easy to think of, but it’s difficult to think of without the shadow, and after a moment, Jiang Cheng sighs and reaches out. Very gently, he pulls the fan from Nie Huaisang’s fingers – he lets him.

“Huaisang,” he tries, because that’s not something he needs a thick face for, something simple between the two of them, nothing inappropriate, nothing too close. “Did you ever learn how to swim?”

It’s touched with the memories of Gusu, of the tainted but sweet time, but not in a way that harms it. Nie Huaisang regards him. His gaze is steady, and he’s studying Jiang Cheng – he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t,” he says, his eyes glimmering – his breath expectant, and Jiang Cheng wonders what he’s expectant for.

“Get in the boat, then,” he says.

Whatever Nie Huaisang was expectant for, it wasn’t that, and confusion creases his brow. “Boat?” he asks. “Jiang-xiong, what boat?” He glances around as if expecting it to appear out of nowhere. Normally, Jiang Cheng might tease him, but it’s too difficult to think of doing so when his heart is blooming.

Jiang-xiong. He’s Jiang-xiong again.

Instead of teasing, he can’t help but grin. “Right here,” he says, and he bends over. Tied to the end of the dock is a rope, and when he tugs on it, one of the small boats comes gently out from underneath the dock, bumping at their feet. “We keep them under when we’re not using them,” he says.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes get a little wide, and he claps his hands together one two times, rapidly. “Very nice,” he says.

Jiang Cheng offers him a hand and though Nie Huaisang pauses for a moment, he takes it, and slips into the boat.

He doesn’t follow.

Instead, after handing back the fan, Jiang Cheng rises to his feet, pulling off his robe to his friend’s wide eyes, and dives into the water.

It’s cool. A shock to the body, almost, after the heat of the air, but it feels nice and Jiang Cheng wishes he could stay immersed. That he could breathe underwater, live down here among the sand and the roots, never having to come up for air and any other responsibilities that might plague him, any worries that might keep him from sleeping at night.

But he’d miss the air, and he’d miss his family, and he’d miss Nie Huaisang, so he kicks his way to the surface.

He was close enough to splash him a bit when he went under, and his friend looks cross with him when Jiang Cheng emerges. “Jiang-xiong!” he huffs, glaring. “What was that!? What are you doing!?”

Nie Huaisang’s face is reddened – possibly too much sun? – but Jiang Cheng shakes his head a little to shake off some excess water and grins at him. “I’ll lead the boat this way,” he says.

“No paddling?” Nie Huaisang asks, eyebrow lifted and face skeptical.

Jiang Cheng makes a face at him, untying the boat. “You doubt me?”

He laughs. “Maybe a little.” It’s nice to hear him laugh, so Jiang Cheng doesn’t argue, just scowls.

“I’ll show you,” he says instead, and he does.

It’s not the easiest task in the world to hold onto the rope, swimming through the water and tugging Nie Huaisang along. His friend might not be large, but a small man is still a small man, even if they’re both still juniors. (It’s strange, to be a sect leader and a junior at the same time – he’s grateful that both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue have experienced such before, and do not look down on him for his age.)

They’re quiet for a few moments, Jiang Cheng concentrating on pulling and Nie Huaisang taking in the sights, enjoying the view as they pull further and further away from the body of Lotus Pier. He has a destination in mind, but that doesn’t mean he’s intent on Firmly Getting There, content to be slow about it, and almost needing to be.

It’s only when he’s gotten into the rhythm, rope in one hand, other arm cutting through the water, slowly but surely, that he glances up at Nie Huaisang and speaks. “Why did you come?” he asks.

He doesn’t intend it to come out hostile – he might be a little harsh, but the other seems to see right through him, shaking his head. “Your sister wrote me a letter,” he says, and Jiang Cheng feels a pang. “She’s worried about you two.”

Two. Two.

Nie Huaisang didn’t just come for him – he came for Wei Wuxian, too. Part of him is glad for it, because having another that isn’t his sister to bear this burden of worry is a relief. To see how his brother fades, how he creeps, how he seems like he’s not here most of the time and how he’s so achingly cold when he is. The other part burns with the resentful energy he cannot and does not wish to wield, because Nie Huaisang did not come for him, would not have come for him if his sister did not worry.

He is certainly not A-Cheng anymore. Likely never again.

He doesn’t know what to say – to thank him for coming seems so hollow, especially when he already had, so Jiang Cheng just nods very quick, very tight. “Wei Wuxian hasn’t gotten any better,” he says, sidestepping around Jiejie’s worry for him. “Whenever we find him, he’ll be glad to see you.”

Nie Huaisang just… looks at him for a moment, when Jiang Cheng meets his eyes, until he tears his eyes away to focus on swimming because he can’t look at him right now, doesn’t know what his emotions are doing. “It’ll be nice to Wei-xiong again, too,” he hears Nie Huaisang say from behind him, in the boat, and Jiang Cheng’s shoulders tense – or as much as they can, while he swims.

The water is cool. It’s not numbing, not that cold, but a good kind that’s a respite from the sun beating above. Jiang Cheng manages to make himself look back again, to actually look, and yes – Nie Huaisang’s face is still red, and he flaps his fan uselessly at his face, robe sleeves rolled up.

“You can take that off,” Jiang Cheng says, and his eyes go wide. “If it’s too hot.”

Nie Huaisang stares at him. “Jiang-xiong,” he says, eyes wide and voice a little lost. “Did you just tell me to strip?”

Jiang Cheng’s face gets warm and he stops, sinking down in the water so it can cool his burning cheeks, for just an instant, before he rises enough so that he can speak. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you in your inner robes before,” he says, even if that sounds like far more than it actually is, and scrapes at his throat when he says it. “There’s no one else out here. And I left my robes behind.”

“I noticed,” says Nie Huaisang, dry and red-faced, and he shakes his head slowly. Not in an answer, Jiang Cheng thinks, but in some other emotion. “Sure. Why not.”

He only pulls off one layer, just his outermost robe, slipping it open and letting it fall off his shoulders, but it’s enough that he looks a little better in just an instant. Jiang Cheng’s gaze lingers, just a moment, and then he continues to swim.

Jiang Cheng pulls him to one of his favorite spots. The water is shallow enough that he can touch the bottom if he wants, deep enough to swim still, to float and kick if he wants that instead, and the lotus flowers and pods here are plentiful. Without thinking, he plucks a pod and offers it to Nie Huaisang, stopping his kicks to stand on the bottom of the lake. “Here,” he says. “You haven’t had them fresh before, have you?”

Nie Huaisang stares at him for a second – Jiang Cheng stares back, not sure why he’s not taking this.

“A-Cheng,” he says, so softly. “You can’t do this to me.” Before he can ask what, can do more than blink, Nie Huaisang slaps the side of the boat in frustration, making it rock under Jiang Cheng’s hand. “You haven’t- You didn’t-“

He makes an inarticulate noise of frustration, and as Jiang Cheng watches in shocked horror, he realizes there are tears gathering at the corners of his eyes – faint ones, traces, but still there. “You never said anything!” Nie Huaisang cries, his hands shaking, eyes wide. There’s anger in his voice, anger and sorrow. “We were fighting, but after- I confessed to you, and you never said anything! We won and I never even got to have you turn me down! Am I worth so little!?”

Jiang Cheng can’t breathe. “I had to get invited by your sister to even see you! Nothing, A-Cheng, nothing!” Nie Huaisang looks wild, looks – looks so hurt, Jiang Cheng did this to him, he did this. “And when I show up, you- you treated me so formally, and then you’re stripping off your robe and taking me on the most romantic fucking date I’ve ever been on and I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me, A-Cheng! You can’t just play with my feelings like this!”

Nie Huaisang pants, color blotching his cheeks, tears gathering, hair falling loose from him shaking his head and hands trembling, fan held in a white-knuckled grip in one hand. He did this. He did this.

Jiang Cheng makes a wounded noise, and his hands are shaking, too. “A-Sang, I-“ Tears prick in his eyes, and he shakes his head with a gasp. The lotus pod falls from his hand to the bottom of the boat, and he stares at his friend, at his- “I didn’t mean to-“

He doesn’t know what to say, what to do, and it must be so apparent, this roaring in his ears – Nie Huaisang softens, just slightly, and reaches out. He wraps his one free hand around Jiang Cheng’s wrist, trembling hand holding trembling wrist. “A-Cheng,” he says, clearly trying to be more composed but not quite there yet. “What do you want from me?”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know.

He’s never- he doesn’t know what constitutes romance, not really. There’s never been a true example before his eyes, and he doesn’t entirely know aside from obvious where friendship slides into romance. Where the boundaries are firm, where they blur – why one person decides to see if, perhaps, this person is the one they want by their side forever.

Does Jiang Cheng want Nie Huaisang by his side forever?

His mind shies away from the obvious images that entail that – from things like betrothals, marriage, children. That doesn’t- He doesn’t-

But a lifetime of being A-Cheng and A-Sang, of a hand holding a wrist, of drawing Nie Huaisang down from the boat and teaching him to swim, of eating lotus seeds together and sharing a bed, knees bumping under the covers, of running hands through his hair and gently tugging his fan from his fingers and-

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Cheng says. “I want us to be A-Sang and A-Cheng.”

Nie Huaisang blinks, once twice, and then softens a little bit. “Okay,” he says. He pauses, considers, and then he shifts so instead of a wrist, he’s holding Jiang Cheng’s hand in his own, interlacing the fingers with tenderness. “I want to hold your hand, A-Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng nods, just slightly. “I want you to visit,” he says. “Not because Jiejie wrote. Because I did. I will.”

“I want to sleep with you again,” Nie Huaisang says, and he leans in, leans down. “You can visit me in Qinghe, too, and we can share my bed again. It was nice.”

“I want to teach you to swim, A-Sang,” Jiang Cheng says.

Nie Huaisang stops – he pulls his hand back, and for a moment Jiang Cheng thinks he’s somehow terribly misstepped with that, has ruined it, but he’s just pulling back enough so that he can take off his second layer. He’s only in his inner robe, now, and he reaches out for Jiang Cheng’s hand once more, scooting to the edge of the boat. “Help me?”

He does – he reaches up with his second hand to steady the boat while Nie Huaisang slips bare legs over the edge of the boat and then slides into the water. He shivers, a little, but he can touch here, and when his feet hit the sandy bottom he reaches up with his other hand to gently rest it on Jiang Cheng’s bare arm. “A-Cheng,” he says. “I want you to kiss me.”

Jiang Cheng stills. There’s no expectancy in Nie Huaisang’s gaze – hope, yes, but he’s not expecting Jiang Cheng to do anything, will not make him. He will not break this if he does not wish to. But he…

He licks his damp lips, unable to help it, and leans in to press a kiss to Nie Huaisang’s forehead. It’s short. Simple. The press of lips to skin, lingering for a moment, but it makes Jiang Cheng feel like warmth is cascading out from that point of connection. A good one, not like the heat of the beating sun that is likely burning at least Nie Huaisang by now, but like a fire in winter, a spice when you’re sick.

When Jiang Cheng pulls back, Nie Huaisang has a faint smile on – fond smile. “A-Cheng,” he says, “I’m going to hold you to those.”

He frowns slightly. He wouldn’t have said them if he didn’t mean it. “Fine,” he says, maybe a little snappy.

It doesn’t seem to faze Nie Huaisang. “You’ll invite me to visit,” he says. “And you’ll come to Qinghe, and we’ll sleep in the same bed. You’ll hold my hand and call me A-Sang.”

Jiang Cheng feels his face get warm, and his frown turns into a scowl. “Not in public,” he says.

Nie Huaisang laughs, giddy. “I guess not,” he says. “And you won’t jerk me around like that again?”

He shakes his head. “I won’t,” he says. And then he tries for a smile, for a crinkle of the eyes and a tiny upturn of the lips. “And I’ll teach you to swim,” he says.

“Now?” asks Nie Huaisang.

“Now,” says Jiang Cheng, and he pulls him deeper into the lotus flowers.

#nie huaisang #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #sangcheng #mdzs

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coldalbion · 4 years ago

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Good morning. I was wondering how much wisdom Odin produces on his own? A while ago you said he transforms himself according to the new information, like cutting his eye out at the well. I was thinking of American Gods, Wednesday’s last conversation with Vulcan has similarities to Nancy’s conversation with Ibis. Odin is a bastard, this is well known. I wonder if he’s the original cultural appropriation guy. I imagine he validates the new info like the borg, whereas those that cosplay don’t.

Depends what you mean by “produce” I suppose. In my experience, I wouldn’t say he’s a cultural appropriator within the context of taking-from-a-group- and-claiming-as-own/being better than originators. If anything, lore suggest he engages with things and practices on their own terms - he becomes a woman with the witches. He gains the runes through pain and privation. In Grímnismál he allows himself to be put between the two fires and is essentially tortured. He’s a god. He doesn’t have to put up with that, but he does. In a sense, it is less that he takes, and more that he adds-to-himself. That’s to say, Odin is rune magician and seidh-master. These are, at first glance two separate praxes. They require different things, different ways. What unites them in this context is Odin. He is the one who performs them. In this sense, he’s not the Borg because the Borg add to the Collective and in doing so, change themselves but also erase difference. My experience is that the Old Man glories in, and enhances difference. A key point to consider is where the phenomenon of bricolage comes in (from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bricolage): “Anthropology In anthropology, the term has been used in several ways. Most notably, Claude Lévi-Strauss invoked the concept of bricolage to refer to the process that leads to the creation of mythical thought, which "expresses itself by means of a heterogeneous repertoire which, even if extensive, is nevertheless limited. It has to use this repertoire, however, whatever the task in hand because it has nothing else at its disposal" [7]. Later, Hervé Varenne and Jill Koyama used the term when explaining the processual aspect of culture, i.e., education Literature In literature, bricolage is affected by intertextuality, the shaping of a text's meanings by reference to other texts. Cultural studies In cultural studies bricolage is used to mean the processes by which people acquire objects from across social divisions to create new cultural identities. In particular, it is a feature of subcultures such as the punk movement. Here, objects that possess one meaning (or no meaning) in the dominant culture are acquired and given a new, often subversive meaning. For example, the safety pin became a form of decoration in punk culture. Social psychology The term "psychological bricolage" is used to explain the mental processes through which an individual develops novel solutions to problems by making use of previously unrelated knowledge or ideas they already possess. The term, introduced by Jeffrey Sanchez-Burks, Matthew J. Karlesky and Fiona Lee[10]The Oxford Handbook of Creativity, Innovation, and Entrepreneurship of the University of Michigan, draws from two separate disciplines. The first, “social bricolage,” was introduced by cultural anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss in 1962. Lévi-Strauss was interested in how societies create novel solutions by using resources that already exist in the collective social consciousness. The second, "creative cognition,” is an intra-psychic approach to studying how individuals retrieve and recombine knowledge in new ways. Psychological bricolage, therefore, refers to the cognitive processes that enable individuals to retrieve and recombine previously unrelated knowledge they already possess.[11][12] Psychological bricolage is an intra-individual process akin to Karl E. Weick’s notion of bricolage in organizations, which is akin to Lévi-Strauss' notion of bricolage in societies.[ Philosophy In his book The Savage Mind (1962, English translation 1966), French anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss used "bricolage" to describe the characteristic patterns of mythological thought. In his description it is opposed to the engineers' creative thinking, which proceeds from goals to means. Mythical thought, according to Lévi-Strauss, attempts to re-use available materials in order to solve new problems.[14][15][16]Jacques Derrida extends this notion to any discourse. "If one calls bricolage the necessity of borrowing one's concept from the text of a heritage which is more or less coherent or ruined, it must be said that every discourse is bricoleur."[17]Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, in their 1972 book Anti-Oedipus, identify bricolage as the characteristic mode of production of the schizophrenic producer.[18]” So given the above, particularly in reference to the re-use of available materials, we find ourselves presented with a very Odinic situation. It’s my contention that bricolage can be used as a justification for cultural appropriation - but it’s a bad one, because for me the essence of magic is the poiesis; the bringing-forth from something that no-one else can bring-forth from. Ordinary people can do things in ordinary ways but the magician is by definition outside of the ordinary - literally extra-ordinary. Not only that, but because of this position, they are able to re-order the ordinary, and thus, everything they contact can be rendered extra-ordinary. In this sense, one could argue that this ability to take restrained or limited context and proper/achieve one’s goals is literally the “spinning straw into gold” of Rumpelstiltskin, the lead into gold of the alchemists, etc. In another, this places magicians - of which Odin is an exemplar- at root as uncanny, almost Lovecraftian monstrosities. This, in one way, renders the occult in its original context of being hidden. That is, it is imperceptible to those who have not been initiated or reconfigured in order to perceive it. It’s important to note that the etymology of perceive is actually rooted in grasping: perceive (v.)c. 1300, perceiven, "become aware of, gain knowledge of," especially "to come to know by direct experience," via Anglo-French parceif, Old North French *perceivre (Old French perçoivre) "perceive, notice, see; recognize, understand," from Latin percipere "obtain, gather, seize entirely, take possession of," also, figuratively, "to grasp with the mind, learn, comprehend," literally "to take entirely," from per "thoroughly" (see per) + capere "to grasp, take," from PIE root *kap- "to grasp."

seize (v.)mid-13c., from Old French seisir "to take possession of, take by force; put in possession of, bestow upon" (Modern French saisir), from Late Latin sacire, which is generally held to be from a Germanic source, but the exact origin is uncertain. Perhaps from Frankish *sakjan "lay claim to" (compare Gothic sokjan, Old English secan "to seek;" see seek). Or perhaps from Proto-Germanic *satjan "to place" (see set (v.)).

Combine this with the common sense of possession in a spiritual context, and we arrive at something Jung wrote in his essay on Wotan in the 1930′s: Perhaps we may sum up this general phenomenon as Ergriffenheit — a state of being seized or possessed. The term postulates not only an Ergriffener (one who is seized) but, also, an Ergreifer (one who seizes). Wotan is an Ergreifer of men, and, unless one wishes to deify Hitler– which has indeed actually happened — he is really the only explanation. It is true that Wotan shares this quality with his cousin Dionysus, but Dionysus seems to have exercised his influence mainly on women. The maenads were a species of female storm-troopers, and, according to mythical reports, were dangerous enough. Wotan confined himself to the berserkers, who found their vocation as the Blackshirts of mythical kings. Leaving aside whether National Socialism was a kind of madness that seized the world (spoiler: the time period was a perfect storm for horrors) and blaming it on Wotan, Jung’s language is important here - particular because it signals a polarity between seizer and seized. Consider Odin’s role as world-creator in Norse myth. He (and his brothers) seize the giant Ymir, kill him, and in supreme butchery, render his corpse into the worlds we know. Taking one thing, they use it to make another - and it is important to note that, according to mythological genealogy, Ymir is Odin’s maternal ancestor - he is not separate from the jotnar. Rather, he re-orders their potencies to make the world, and since those potencies are inside him, re-orders his own ancestral potencies into that which humans might call god as distinct from jotun. In this sense, we all do this - our lives, bodies and minds are recapitulations and reconfigurations of our ancestors in new forms. When we suggest that “We are our deeds” or whatever, it is a mistake to ignore that the faculties to perform those deeds come from faculties bestowed on us by environment and heredity. How we experience things depends on how we are configured - though such configuration is constantly shifting due to constant inputs. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the magician deliberately seeks out that reconfigurative reflex. seek (v.)Old English secan "inquire, search for; pursue; long for, wish for, desire; look for, expect from," influenced by Old Norse soekja, both from Proto-Germanic *sakanan (source also of Old Saxon sokian, Old Frisian seka, Middle Dutch soekan, Old High German suohhan, German suchen, Gothic sokjan), from PIE *sag-yo-, from root *sag- "to track down, seek out" (source also of Latin sagire "to perceive quickly or keenly," sagus "presaging, predicting," Old Irish saigim "seek"). The natural modern form of the Anglo-Saxon word as uninfluenced by Norse is in beseech. This desire, this hunt, can be clearly seen in an Odinic/Dionysiac furor complex - combined with *wen: *wen- (1)Proto-Indo-European root meaning "to desire, strive for."It forms all or part of: vanadium; Vanir; venerate; veneration; venerable; venereal; venery (n.1) "pursuit of sexual pleasure;" venery (n.2) "hunting, the sports of the chase;" venial; venison; venom; Venus; wean; ween; Wend "Slavic people of eastern Germany;" win; winsome; wish; wont; wynn.It is the hypothetical source of/evidence for its existence is provided by: Sanskrit veti "follows after," vanas- "desire," vanati "desires, loves, wins;" Avestan vanaiti "he wishes, is victorious;" Latin venerari "to worship," venus "love, sexual desire; loveliness, beauty;" Old English wynn "joy," wunian "to dwell," wenian "to accustom, train, wean," wyscan "to wish." Note the reference to Vanir and Vanadis (by way of vanadium) as well as Venus. That there is a polarity betwixt hunter and hunted is obvious, as with sexual partners (regardless of gender or sex it is two -or more - parties conjoined by desire) and also in the notion of veneration, and winning/victory.

So, perhaps more properly, we might argue that the magician goes-into the world in a more intense fashion - not with the principle of union-with, or reduction to Oneness. Rather, towards profusion of difference, of options and room-to-move. A peculiar notion of freedom via absolute restraint ; enhanced negative-capability. In such a context, to culturally appropriate is to defang the numinous, make it more palatable, more ordinary. To commodity it. I do not think Yggr, the Terrible One, would do so for mere “safety’s-sake”. Maybe that’s just me though.

#the old man #odin #furor club #bricolage #enochtopus

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officialleehadan · 5 years ago

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Sword and Shield

+++

“My life changed in my nineteenth year. At nineteen, I made my first, perhaps my only, friend.”

~From the journal of Telian, the White Sword

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The problem, Bordan thought to himself as he fought to hold back the seething wall of undead, armed with a broken sword and a bad attitude, was that the undead didn’t know when to give up.

Of course, neither did he, which was why he was in this particular situation in the first place.

The road to Ridmar was a long one. Oh, sure it was shorter by train, and Bordan fully intended to take advantage of that, but first he had to get to a town that was big enough to actually have a rail connection.

But wen he saw the cloud of miasma flowing down between two of the foothills towards the next town too small to even have a name, well, he couldn’t pass them by.

He told himself it would have been different if he knew that the town was dead already, hit by another cloud of miasma only a few hours before dawn. If he had known that the town was dead already…

It didn’t matter. He came into town, hoping to warn them in time to get everyone out of the way, and found nearly a hundred twisted, mutilated undead where there should have been a bustling town.

He wouldn’t have stayed, if he hadn’t heard a child crying.

The child turned part of a tiny family who lived in the town’s bell-tower, and who were just high enough to be above the miasma as it rolled through.

He got them clear, but the undead took note.

Now he was trying to hold them off, desperately fighting to buy enough time for the little family to run.

The reason for the miasma became all to clear as he backed up, step by step, hemmed in by old buildings that kept the undead form surrounding him. He thought those walls looked odd, but now he saw the signs he should have seen before he ever risked the town.

The way the hills sloped away from the town.

The deep scars, distinctive and visible if he had been smart enough to look.

The way the miasma crept out of the soil as much as it rolled down the hills.

A blast crater, from one of the bombs that fell during the War between Ridmar and Sidonia. The damn-fool people built a town in the crater of a bomb. No wonder the miasma was so bad here. What could have possessed them to build in a place that practically leaked miasma?!

But when he saw the reactor, burned out and half-destroyed up on the hillside, he understood.

Thee were the workers, the people who survived the war and had no where else to go.

No wonder they refused to leave.

Bordan fought, sword long broken on one of the Undead that was covered in some sort of half-fused metal. He killed it, but his sword, which had been with him since before he could remember, was broken off almost at the hilt.

The miasma cloud, thick and brown but lit inside with eerie blue light, flowed down the hill, slow, drifting fog that left everything it touched blackened and twisted.

Bordan looked over his shoulder. The family was almost clear, but he couldn’t follow them or he would lead the undead straight to them.

But that reactor might offer more than just a stark reminder of the War only two years past.

Bordan kicked one of the undead, what used to be a man and was now a shambling corpse, riddled with maggots and baring blackened teeth, away. The reactor wasn’t far, and it was high enough up that the miasma probably wouldn’t reach him there.

“Hey!” he yelled, waving his arms to make himself a bigger target. “Hey! Ugly! Over here!”

The undead, who were already interested, turned as one, empty, rotted eyes fixing on him.

“This was not my best idea,” Bordan muttered to himself, and waved his arms again. “You want me?! Come get me!”

He took off running, not after the family, but up the rocky trail to the reactor. It had probably been a decent road, once. Now it was a wreck, ruined first by the bomb that cored out the reactor itself and then by years of disuse.

Two years wasn’t long for a man, but of a road, it was an age.

Bordan leaped a small creek that cut through the worn concrete and kept going, pausing only to make sure the undead were following him, not the family.

They were.

This was definitely not his best idea.

The reactor was a ruin. It was clear that the bomb hadn’t struck it clean on, but the damage was done anyway. When Bordan scrambled up the stairs, ducking under branches and through the scrub until he broke into the reactor’s main hall.

Here, the signs of the blast that had destroyed the reactor were visible in the destroyed walls, and the huge chunks of rubble that littered the shattered floor.

But worse, worse was the sign he hoped to avoid.

Where the miasma slipped into the town, born by the wind and seeping form the dirt, here it puddled, thick and viscous.

If he made a single bad step and fell into the thick fog… it was a bad way to die, and a worse way to come back.

The undead were on his heels as he ran through the reactor, following the easiest path through the rubble. Here and there, he paused long enough to take down the closest pursuers, but it was a losing game. Every time he stopped, the rest of the pack got closer.

He was running out of reactor, and ideas.

A glint of light caught his eye as Bordan paused, back against a boulder, to try and catch his breath. Something in the back of his mind prodded him forward. They made artificial lenz in these old reactors he remembered. Maybe…

That feeling in the back of his mind came again, and before he could think better of it, he shoved his hand through the fallen leaves and the rubble, seeking that elusive glimmer that might just be hope.

It was a lenz, but not like any lenz he had ever seen before.

Sharply faceted as all lenz were, most of them were red, or blue. Yellow sometimes. Even white. Their color showed what sort of magic they focused best.

This one was black, heavy and inky like the dark just outside a fire’s reach. Swirls of red shot through it, endlessly moving, and somehow, deeply ominous.

Before he could drop it, instincts creaming that this was not the hope he prayed for, miasma fog, foul and reeking, flooded through a crack in the wall.

Bordan managed three steps before it was on him, overwhelming and so thick it was almost impossible to see through. He stumbled, eyes burning from the acrid fog, and somehow, impossibly, kept breathing.

Miasma fog was a quick death. Bordan knew that better than most. He had seen farmers caught in it, trying to save their animals. He had seen the way they choked and coughed as the miasma filled their lungs and twisted them inside until they died, or worse, fell and rose again.

But this… this was, somehow, no worse than the fog that rolled off the river back home. It stank of rot, but the pain never came. The horrible, wrenching mutilation that Bordan still dreamed about, years later.

Never one to take good luck for granted, Bordan shoved the strange lenz in his pocket, and ran for the exit. With any luck, the undead would be stuck in the miasma, and if he couldn’t see farther than his own arm, maybe they couldn’t either.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

The whine of an airship cut through the miasma somewhere overhead, and Bordan didn’t slow as he shoved through the undead, ducking swipes and snarls, as he tumbled out one of the gaping holes in the reactor’s side.

When he cleared the thick concrete walls, the source of the airship’s whine became clear. The ship itself was dropping lower towards the town, and Bordan could just barely see the family he saved, surrounded by soldiers and being hurried, one by one, onto the ship.

Good. They were safe. That was what mattered.

Bordan was somewhat less safe, but he could deal with that.

While he was distracted, the undead closed on him again, and he muttered a curse even as he vaulted up onto a boulder, and scrambled for the wall above. The undead could climb, but not well. Once the miasma faded, he could run for it again. He didn’t want to chance his improbable luck more than he had to. He was already living on borrowed time as it was.

Before he made it to the wall, claws raked down his leg, and Bordan slashed blindly with his broken sword. He hit… something, and the claws vanished, but the damage was done. Blood soaked his pants and left red smears on the stone below as he forced himself to keep climbing.

So much for running. He could feel the gashes in his leg seeping his strength as the moments passed.

One bad slip, on his own blood ,damn it all, was all it took. Bordan scrabbled at the worn concrete but with one leg down he couldn’t catch his balance. The nauseating feeling of a bad fall swept through him, but suddenly there was a hand, a human hand, on his, yanking him back to safety.

“I would say hello,” the man said, blonde hair tied back, into a loose tail, free hand filled with a rapier that looked like it was worth more than Bordan made in three years. He was that striking kind of pretty that Bordan thought wasn’t real. The kind in the newspapers, that always seemed to be talking to someone important. He was also, Bordan noted, lightheaded from blood-loss, about nineteen. Maybe younger. “But I think look out is possibly a better use of breath.”

“You’re definitely too young to be fighting monsters,” Bordan told him, too dizzy for any kind of good sense. The kid cracked a smile, and hauled Bordan up onto the boulder without the slightest difficulty. Enhanced, maybe, or using a lenz Bordan couldn’t see. Maybe both. “You got another sword in that coat?”

“No. Can you use lenz?”

“Yup.” Not well, and not for long given his general state of exhaustion, but he could.

The kid pulled his coat out of the way and reviled a sophisticated lenz harness across his chest that was filled with high-grade lenz in half a dozen colors. He pulled two out of the harness and handed them over. “Heal yourself and cover me.”

“I don’t know where your mama is, but I’m not telling her I got her kid killed by undead.”

“My mother is dead, and wouldn’t care if she knew.”

“Fine. My mama would be pissed and I’m not explaining it to her either.”

“Is your mother alive?”

“Nope, but I’m not disappointing her memory by getting a kid killed.”

“I am not a child, and your mother will understand, I assure you.”

“She will definitely not.”

Bordan let the banter distract him as he channeled mana into the Heal lenz until the gashes in his leg faded to something manageable, and then switched to the other. It was, it turned out, a higher-test version of the Fire lenz he sold to get enough cash for the trip to Ridmar.

This one was much nicer.

Bordan immediately set to setting everything around them on fire.

The kid blinked, taken aback by all the fire, but took the opening Bordan bought him. The kid, as it turned out, was unreasonably fast. He was also unreasonably lethal with that long-bladed rapier of his, and the two together made short work of the undead crowding around their rock.

Who knew?

Undead handled, Bordan slid down off his rock, winced at the sticky feeling of his blood-soaked pant-leg, and offered the lenz back to the kid.

“You got a name?” he asked when the kid waved t him to keep the lenz. “I’m Bordan.”

“Telian.”

Wait.

Bordan knew that name.

“The White Sword!?”

“I hate that name.”

“But you’re him?”

“My sword isn’t white.”

The White Sword was the A.P.O.C’s youngest general. He was unstoppable. Rumor had it he could take a hundred men by himself. During the war, he fought for Ridmar and when the A.P.O.C formed, they made him a general.

He was also, Bordan noted, about nineteen, definitely uncomfortable with Bordan’s awed surprise, and was trying not to fidget with his sword. There was something about the way he glanced at Bordan out of the corner of his eye that told Bordan just how badly this kid needed someone immovably in his corner.

“You definitely need a friend,” Bordan decided on the spot, and clapped Telian’s shoulder firmly. “You’re stuck with me now. So, is that airship yours, or are we gonna go be airship pirates next?”

+++

CB - Before the Black Lenz:

Lenz is power. the crystallized blood of the planet. Magic, for those willing to junction it. Power for those who control it. Terrible, for those who face the lenzmasters, who wield magic to terrible effect.

But before they can be junctioned, lenz must be found, and only a few are brave enough to brave the mana fountains that mark the birth of a new lenz.

Fountain Above

Miasma Born (Free on Patreon)

+++

More Stories!

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satonthelotuspier · 5 years ago

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A Very Hallmark Untamed Christmas

So I spent my Sunday writing this gimmicky piece that makes no sense in either small town America or Ancient Cultivational China. It is full of hallmark style cliche with a WangXian twist.

Updated so whole fic is included below, I am potato and didn’t realise tumblr didn’t have a limit on text posts

Plot bunnied by this post

Wei Wuxian kicked the tyre of his car in temper. If Nie Huaisang had been on hand it would have been his friend he’d quite like to have kicked, it being that man who’d convinced him he really had to make the trip home this year, with his recent breakup and the fact it had been a while since he’d seen any of his family he’d said it was the perfect time.

Never mind the fact it had been thirteen years since he’d been chased out of Cultivation, Wyoming, population: assholes.

He dragged the spare tyre out and tossed it in the road beside the jack and wrench he’d already dug out.

And to top it all off it was starting to snow.

“Perfect” Wei Wuxian growled, starting to change the tyre as quickly as possible, snow in Wyoming could be brutal.

He was halfway through the process when a police cruiser pulled over behind his car and the driver got out and walked over.

“Do you need some help?” the gentle voice was vaguely familiar to Wei Wuxian and he looked up from his task. They both recognised each other at the same time. To be honest, there wasn’t really much mistaking the face that looked more like it belonged on the catwalk than behind the long arm of the law. It’s distinctive features had only lost a little of the soft roundness of youth that he remembered, now it was all elegant angles and arching brows over soft light amber eyes.

“Wei Ying?” there was shock in Lan Zhan’s voice.

“Lan Zhan” he rose to his feet and almost reached out to shake hands before he remembered his were covered in grease. So much for his manicure. “So you’re sheriff now” he said as he saw the police badge pinned to the other’s shirt.

“Mn, are you back to visit your family?”

“Among other things” he confirmed, “How are yours?”

And oh my god, if he had to go through a month of this kind of awkward small talk with people he barely knew anymore he’d just die.

They talked a little more of inconsequential things while Lan Zhan helped him finish up the tyre change and if he felt a little guilty for letting Lan Zhan take the lead while he held back to check out Lan Zhan’s undeniably fine ass then so be it; he deserved the eyeful as reward for putting up with the small town small talk.

Once changed he was bundled into his car and sent off towards town before the snow got worse with Lan Zhan’s “I’ll see you around, Wei Ying” ringing in his ears.

And if he kept checking the rear-view mirror until he turned a bend in the road then it was just road safety and nothing else.

***

Jiang Cheng was his usual welcoming self when Wei Wuxian arrived at Lotus Pier. Although they hadn’t seen each other in four or five years they’d kept in close contact via electronic means.

“Glad you could drop by” Jiang Cheng snarked, but his hug was genuine and warm and honestly everything Wei Wuxian had missed.

He snarked some more about Wei Wuxian not treating the house like a hotel, but when Wei Wuxian went up to his old room it had been aired, completely scrubbed clean with fresh bedding and there was even a vase of fresh flowers. The latter had probably been Yanli’s touch even if the former weren’t.

After dinner that evening Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian sat in the p in front of a roaring fire, something else he admitted he’d missed in the big city full of central heating and aircon.

The decorated tree glinted and sparkled in the dancing firelight and the flashing tree lights.

They’d drunk several bottles of beer with dinner and while catching up afterwards and both their tongues were loosened as a result.

Jiang Cheng admitted how close Lotus Pier was to financial collapse, something he’d never discussed with Wei Wuxian until now.

In his guilt over having left Jiang Cheng alone to deal with it all he admitted the reason he’d had to leave thirteen years ago, that Mayor Jin Guangshan had threatened him that something might happen to Jiang Yanli, his own daughter-in-law if Wei Wuxian didn’t get out of his sight, all because Wei Wuxian’s mother had refused his disgusting advances once.

Jiang Cheng was incensed, “You mean I lost my brother because that old bastard just couldn’t keep his dick in his pants?” but in the end Jin Guangshan was dead and there was nothing his anger could do.

“I’m here now” Wei Wuxian soothed, rubbing his shoulder and he ranted.

“But you won’t be staying” Jiang Cheng said morosely, staring at the dregs of the beer left in his bottle.

“No, I won’t be staying. But New York isn’t the end of the world Jiang Cheng, it’s only a flight away”

That knowledge didn’t seem to make either of them feel better that night.

***

Wei Wuxian classed himself as a city boy now, thirteen years had left their indelible print on him and he normally adhered to a routine of late mornings and later nights except when he was coming up to a deadline and his time was tight, or he was writing something that particularly consumed him.

His first day back in Cultivation he was up at the crack of dawn however, riding the ranch to take stock of what had changed in the intervening years.

His early morning was a direct consequence of a sleepless night were he’d tossed and turned at both the discomfort of being back in Cultivation and the worry over what Jiang Cheng had told him about the ranch.

Luckily he’d put those hours to good use and he had a pretty solid idea of how Jiang Cheng could diversify and keep everything afloat, with some initial capital investment which he could provide himself.

He called his agent and friend from High School Wen Ning first thing after his walk and had a quick discussion about the finances should he need them.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to be hot on the idea, but he only needed to agree, not like it.

Being a city boy himself Wei Wuxian knew that if Jiang Cheng could set up a leisure venture in conjunction with the ranch it could be the difference between stability, maybe even profitability, and bankruptcy.

They’d pulled back the acreage they used for pasture over the years as they’d reduce their cattle herds, and some of that land had been reclaimed by the woods. If they could turn that into camping grounds, along with renovating the old cabins down by the lake shore it would be a good start towards building Lotus Pier as a tourist destination. They could take advantage of local hiking and biking tracks, as well as provide access to water sports on the lake and even horse riding. It would take advantage of the huge market of people who liked or wanted to use their vacation time to get away from the stresses and strains of city life and just relax out in nature.

It would take time to embed, and Jiang Cheng would need a manager for that side of the business, he wasn’t a people person so the further he was away from the customers the better, but it would eventually provide capital to build more cabins and extend the facilities with careful management.

And possibly then provide enough profit that the ranch part running at a loss didn’t even matter.

Now he just needed to sell the idea to his grumpy brother.

Jiang Cheng would be out on the ranch completing chores at this time of the morning and he didn’t want to be dragged into them on his first day back, so he showered and drove back into town. Luckily the snow yesterday had only ended in a light covering which had melted overnight.

***

Failing a Starbucks he called into the local diner for a coffee to combat his lack of sleep, and ran into the town LEO.

“Wei Ying” there was a trace of something that sounded almost pleased in Lan Zhan’s modulated voice.

“Lan Zhan, thanks for your help yesterday, I managed to get to Lotus Pier with no problems”

“Good” Lan Zhan looked like he had something on his mind and Wei Wuxian hoped he wasn’t disturbing him. He almost backed off in guilt until the other one asked quietly, “Wei Ying, have dinner with me?”

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t pretend the idea didn’t throw him a little, he hadn’t really ever thought that he and Lan Zhan had been close enough to warrant grabbing dinner together to catch up now he was back.

But he was at a loose end at the moment, and moping in the house night after night would only lead to him being morose over his breakup with Mian Mian, even six months later as it was.

“Uh, alright? I’m free tomorrow or later this week?” habit of his city life had him pulling his phone out to check his calendar, “Send me an event?”

Lan Zhan looked at him blankly.

“Okayyy. Guess I’ll just put that in manually then. Tomorrow?”

“Mn, I can come and pick you up at Lotus Pier?”

“No need I can borrow Jiang Cheng’s truck if the snow gets bad, message me where to meet you”

“I don’t have your number”

“Oh, haha of course not” he pulled a business card out of wallet and handed it over to Lan Zhan, “Message me, I’m going to see Shijie now” and like a whirlwind he collected his coffee and disappeared.

***

Lan Wangji looked down at the card in his hand, not entirely sure what had just happened. Actually no, he was pretty sure he’d asked Wei Ying out on a date, and he was just as sure Wei Ying had accepted his invitation, but it wasn’t as a date.

“That boy’s as thick as a post” Song Lan said from a nearby booth where he sat eating breakfast and drinking coffee, the fact he had his paramedics uniform on suggested he was either just going on or coming off duty. “Twenty bucks says he doesn’t even realise you asked him out”

It wasn’t a bet Lan Wangji was willing to take.

***

Jiang Yanli was an utter mess the moment she opened the door to him. She didn’t let him go for what felt like hours as she hugged and cried over him, alternating between cooing at how grown up and handsome he looked now and telling him off for not visiting before now.

“I promise I’ll visit more often” he soothed as he hugged back and tried not to cry himself. There was at least no danger to him returning more often now. And he’d admit he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed his family, how much he hadn’t allowed himself to admit it in the past because he’d been helpless to do anything about the reasons why.

As it was Saturday Jin Ling was home, the seven year old obviously knew who his Uncle Wuxian was but had only ever seen him through pictures and over video calls. He was curious but quite nervous of Wei Wuxian at first. But for some reason children always warmed up to him quickly and they were soon drawing Christmas themed pictures together at the counter while Yanli performed the Spanish Inquisition on him about everything from his latest book release to how he was doing post-Mian Mian to who he’d seen since he’d been back in town.

“I’m having drinks with Nie Huaisang tonight” he told her and scratched his chin as he remembered the other plans he’d made, “Oh yeah, and I’m going to dinner with Lan Zhan tomorrow. Weird right? I didn’t even think we were that close back then”

Yanli looked at him carefully, “Lan Wangji asked you out?” as if the thought surprised her greatly.

“I know right, I felt the same” Wei Wuxian shook his head in confused amusement. “Tell me what’s being going on in the Jin house, Shijie”

***

He was so surprisingly busy the next few weeks flew by as it drew closer and closer to Christmas, he spent time on the ranch helping out Jiang Cheng. When Jin Ling wasn’t at school he followed Wei Wuxian everywhere; and as they enjoyed a surge of mild weather they went horse riding and hiking. He even took him fishing down to the pier next to the old, rundown boathouse, that had given Lotus Pier it’s name, Jin Ling seemed to enjoy it greatly. He even showed Wei Wuxian his den in the woods.

Wei Wuxian sold his diversification idea to Jiang Cheng, explaining in great detail what he could envision doing well, what they’d need to do legally, what he could do personally in terms of capital investment, and presented the forecasts he’d had his accountant look into producing. Jiang Cheng was a hard sell, which was why Wei Wuxian had put a lot of information and projections together to basically present him with an offer he literally couldn’t refuse.

Jiang Yanli took every opportunity to fuss and cluck over him, try to feed him up, listen to all his worries and concerns and give the best sisterly advice. She often asked him how things were progressing with Lan Zhan, but he didn’t really understand why she was so interested in his relationship with the Sheriff.

He spent time with Nie Huaisang, being heckled and sassed and told everyone else’s gossip, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

Everywhere he went he ran into Officer Lan, looking dashing in his uniform. They went out to dinner and for drinks quite often, building the friendship Wei Wuxian was sure they hadn’t had in the past despite Lan Zhan seeking him out all the time. Unfortunately there was also a rising attraction Wei Wuxian was trying desperately to squash; not only was Lan Zhan devastatingly handsome he was kind and attentive too. It was heady stuff and he struggled not to let it go to his head.

And he joined everyone else in town watching Lan Zhan’s brother Xichen be followed around by half the available population of Cultivation, like adoring puppies. Particularly strong suits came from Nie Mingjue, Meng Yao, and Jiang Cheng. Not that it did them any good because Xichen noticed nothing.

“I’m sorry Lan Zhan, but your brother is such a himbo” he commented one day as they left the diner with coffee cups, watching Lan Xichen walk down the street with Meng Yao, who looked at him like he hung the moon, “Who could be so clueless as to not notice when someone is making that kind of play?”

For a second some odd look crossed Lan Zhan’s face and Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure if was disbelief or if he was about laugh or cry, it settled into it’s usual expressionlessness though, and Lan Zhan just shook his head helplessly, “Yes, who” was his only comment. Wei Wuxian thought he must really despair of his brother’s obliviousness.

He did wonder sometimes though why Lan Wangji didn’t have similar amounts of fans, he was just as good looking, had a great job, and was a genuinely kind man. But no-one seemed to pant after him like after Xichen. It was very odd, almost as if he was off the market.

What was even odder to Wei Wuxian was the more involved he got the less he suddenly minded being stuck in Small Town USA.

***

Unfortunately his attraction to Lan Zhan did continue to grow and he found it harder and harder to keep his interactions that of a friend only. Especially one evening as they had drinks at the Lakeside. It was a party atmosphere inside as Christmas was approaching fast, and the bar was trimmed up to the nines with wreaths, trees, garlands, lights and holly and mistletoe everywhere. Everyone was having a great time dancing to the holiday music.

Everyone was having so much fun and for some reason urging them on, which was probably why they ended up swaying together on the dance-floor and necking under the mistletoe some mischievous employee had hung up all over the ceiling above the entire length of the bar-room.

When the music stopped they didn’t discuss it but they ended up in Lan Zhan’s bedroom and continued where they’d left off at the Lakeside. Lan Zhan pulled back to stroke each side of his face gently, like he was holding something precious and of great value.

“Wei Ying-”

“Lan Zhan, if the next words out of your mouth aren’t “I’m going to kiss you” then just shut up and kiss me” he ordered and the other snorted and rubbed along Wei Wuxian’s lower lip with his thumb.

“Then Wei Ying, I’m going to kiss you, if you’re sure you want it”

“Kiss me”

***

Wei Wuxian woke up the next morning to blinding clarity. He was in love with Lan Zhan. How had that even happened? How could he even consider it? Being in love with Lan Zhan meant tying himself to Cultivation and he’d rather die. He slid carefully out from underneath Lan Zhan’s arm which was thrown across his waist and hurried into his clothes.

He made the mistake of glancing back at the sleeping sheriff then, refined features relaxed in sleep, dark hair start against the white pillows, and he wavered. Would it really be so bad?

He left as quietly and quickly as possible.

He kept it together until he got back to the Ranch House.

What made the panic worse was that a snowstorm was obviously approaching, the mild weather of the last few weeks had vanished. He needed to pack and get out of there before they were snowed in and he had no way out. The thought almost tipped him into a panic attack.

Jiang Yanli was there just settling Jin Ling in on the sofa as he’d come over feverish.

Once sure Jin Ling was comfortable she came through to the kitchen where Jiang Cheng tried to get him to slow his breathing and ground himself.

“What’s wrong?” she asked when he was more controlled.

“I need to go back to New York. I have to get out of here. I have to go” Spurred on he dashed upstairs.

Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng followed him up to his room, it was clearly obvious he was greatly distressed and wasn’t thinking clearly.

“I just-I need to go” Wei Wuxian dragged his case out from under the bed and began haphazardly throwing clothes into it.

“You fucked him” Jiang Cheng said in disbelief, “Oh my god, he finally got you after all these years of pining. And now you’re just running. The dude is going to be inconsolable”

“A-Cheng” Yanli admonished him sharply but Jiang Cheng was in fine form.

“Was he that bad a lay you’re having to leave town now rather than face him again?”

“Jiang Wanyin” Yanli again, bringing out the “you’re in trouble” name.

“A. He fucked me, B. It was good, C.-” he paused briefly, he didn’t really know what C was.

“So what’s wrong?” Yanli asked.

“I-” what was wrong was he’d woken up, realised he was in love with Lan Zhan and panicked because of what that meant for him. Being with Lan Zhan meant being in Cultivation, and the thought terrified him. This town had treated him like trash and spat him out once before and he didn’t know if he was strong enough to go through that again. He hugged the pair of jeans in his hands against his chest and sat down on the bed. “I realised I love him” he admitted quietly, and Yanli sat next to him and began stroking his back calmingly.

“And that scares you?” she asked gently. Wei Wuxian nodded and she made a soothing sound.

“Because it means you’d have to come back here permanently” Jiang Cheng said from where he leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

Wei Wuxian flinched at the hurt he heard in his brother’s voice. He didn’t want to do that to him. But it was the truth and he nodded again.

Then, “Does Lan Zhan really like me?”

Jiang Yanli was the one to nod then, “He’s loved you for a very long time A-Xian”

Fuck. So he’d run out this morning without saying a word or leaving a message. After sleeping with the man who’d loved him forever. And just left him.

He knew perfectly well what kind of message that would send even if it was one he hadn’t intended to, so caught up in his own panic and feelings he hadn’t even spared a thought for Lan Zhan’s.

He really had messed up spectacularly. He got up then, throwing the jeans aside and making for the door. “I need to talk to Lan Zhan” he declared and the other two followed him again.

***

Downstairs the kitchen door was swinging open in the cold wind, blowing drifts of snow onto the tile floor.

The panic hit all three of them at the same time.

“A-Ling” Yanli cried out dashing into the parlour where he’d been curled up on the sofa asleep under a warm blanket.

Of course he wasn’t there.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian moved as one to grab coats and gloves which they bundled into on the way to the door.

“Call Zixuan, and stay here in case A-Ling comes back” Jiang Cheng told Yanli who was crying and moving to collect her own coat.

“That’s my son, I’m going with you”

“Yanli, we really need you to stay here and call us if he does come back, it’s snowing out there and he’ll get cold and might head back on his own. We need you here, we’ll find him” Jiang Cheng promised rubbing her shaking shoulders.

***

“You check the barn and milking sheds” he told Jiang Cheng as they leapt off the porch and into the snow, “I’ll go to the woods and check the den”

They split off and headed in their assigned directions.

He wondered why Jin Ling had felt the need to leave the house, especially when he was sick.

He threw up a quick prayer for Jin Ling’s safety to any god listening in and doubled his pace.

Wei Wuxian felt his heart sink when he got there to no sign of his nephew, he’d almost been sure he’d be here. Where else could he have headed for?

Wait, hadn’t Jin Ling really enjoyed their fishing trip? What if he’d headed down to the lake?

Wei Wuxian began running, too aware of how dangerous it could be and what would be the consequence in the freezing cold if Jin Ling did slip into the water.

He couldn’t see anything when he got to the pier, please god let Jin Ling have gone for shelter in the ramshackle old boathouse.

His prayers were answered, and he found Jin Ling huddled in the corner inside, half asleep and rambling with fever.

“Uncle Wuxian” he managed though as Wei Wuxian took his coat off and wrapped it around Jin Ling. He checked his phone but this far out he had no signal and he’d have to get a bit closer to the house before his phone started connecting with nearby towers.

Wei Wuxian picked him up and settled him against his chest comfortably.

“Come on A-Ling, lets get you back to your Mom, she’s worried sick about you. What were you thinking?” he asked but the boy didn’t seem to hear him.

He walked out of the boathouse and into the driving snow, trying not to think about the journey back. He didn’t have any choice, he could afford to wait the snowstorm out in the boathouse but Jin Ling couldn’t; he was quite poorly.

So he set his shoulders and walked. It was so cold. But he struggled on. What would he have done if something had happened to Jin Ling? He couldn’t bear to think about it. Couldn’t bear to think about not being able to see his curious, energetic little nephew every day.

Wait.

But he was going back to New York, he wouldn’t be able to spend all that time with Jin Ling anymore, wouldn't get to see him every day, that was how it was going to have to be.

But the more he thought about it the more he knew he wouldn’t survive. Not seeing Jiang Cheng’s grumpy face hiding his careful concern? Not receiving the unconditional love and support of Jiang Yanli? Not being the person who hung the moon to Jin Ling? Even not being the stupid fool who’d had Lan Zhan’s love forever without even realising, trying to bro-zone him while Lan Zhan tried his damnedest to pursue him?

The more he considered it the more the thought of leaving all of them behind became intolerable to him.

Not that Lan Zhan would want anything to do with him after his disappearing act this morning he realised and the thought actually made him hurt.

As if summoned by Wei Wuxian’s reflections the man himself appeared out of the snowstorm.

“Wei Ying” he said and held the other upright as he stumbled, his limbs starting to go numb.

Lan Zhan had emergency blankets, one of which he wrapped around Wei Wuxian, before wrapping the other around Jin Ling as extra protection from the cold. He took him from Wei Wuxian’s arms to carry him instead. Then he wrapped an arm around Wei Wuxian and began guiding them back in the direction he’d come, reporting in on his police radio that Jin Ling was safe and he was bringing them back now.

“I didn’t want Uncle Wuxian to leave” Jin Ling exclaimed suddenly.

“I’m not Jin Ling, I’m not” but no-one seemed to pay him any attention. “Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian wanted to tell him he was sorry. That he hadn’t known what he’d done that morning would hurt him. That he really wanted to stay. That he loved him. But Lan Zhan didn’t let him speak.

“Save your energy Wei Ying, you did well” was all he said.

***

Once back at the ranch house he and Jin Ling were stripped, wrapped in dryer-warmed terry cloth robes, and piled under hundreds of blankets. A cup of hot chocolate was pressed into his hands and he was told to sip it as soon as he could stand the temperature while Wen Qing checked over Jin Ling who Yanli hadn’t let go yet.

Lan Zhan waited for the health verdict on both of them, but as soon as he was assured Jin Ling would be fine once his fever lowered and Wei Wuxian was none the worse for wear he moved towards the door to leave.

“Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian called urgently; he didn’t want Lan Zhan to think whatever he thought for a minute longer.

When he realised everyone was looking at him he jumped up and stumbled across the room like some crazy blanket monster from a child’s book. He tried to ignore the more icier than usual look on Lan Zhan’s face as he pulled him out of the kitchen and up to his room with a “Please just give me a little more of your time”

He realised what a miscalculation it had been to fetch Lan Zhan here when he saw his case still open on the bed.

“Its not what it looks like Lan Zhan. Actually no it is what it looks like. It was, anyway. Please let me explain” he closed the case and pushed it back under the bed so he could sit down.

“I am so sorry I ran this morning. I realise with hindsight what that might have looked like to you”

“Like your night of experimentation was done with and you didn’t want to deal with the morning after?” Lan Zhan suggested coldly.

“Experimentation? That's not it. Lan Zhan, I’ve always identified as bisexual. I’ve just never been with a guy before because I was in a long term relationship. I’d only ever been with Mian Mian before we-before last night” it was even worse than he’d suspected. “Will you please at least listen to me explain?”

Lan Zhan didn’t say no, so he took that as permission.

“I need you to know I didn’t know how you felt about me before Yanli told me this morning. And I didn’t know how I felt about you until I woke up and realised I was in love with you. And I panicked and ran away because I couldn’t process it and I was scared. I know Meng Yao told you what his father did to get rid of me, and why, and even though he’s dead now it’s hard to think of Cultivation as anything but a hell pit. Loving you would mean staying here and I was terrified at the thought”

“Wei Ying, you love me?” there was a crack in that icy facade as Lan Zhan asked him to confirm his feelings again, trembling emotion in his voice.

Wei Wuxian pressed his lips together but nodded in certainty, “Mn” he stole Lan Zhan’s sound of agreement

“Then I wouldn't care where we lived if it was with you, we could move to New York, Shanghai, anywhere in the world you wanted” Lan Zhan sat on the bed next to him and folded Wei Wuxian’s unwieldy, blanket-monster form into his arms.

“I want to stay here” he said firmly. “I thought about it a lot while I was out in the snowstorm, and I need to be near my family, including you if you’ll forgive me Lan Zhan”

“Always” he agreed, then pressed a kiss against Wei Wuxian’s lips. A drop of cold water from Wei Wuxian’s hair dripped onto his nose then, and he rose to find a towel so he could rub it dry gently. The action was soporific and Wei Wuxian struggled to stay awake.

Lan Zhan asked him softly, “How do you feel?”

He roused himself enough to answer, “If you mean about last night, then my ass hurts. If you mean about this morning, my heart hurts, I made Jin Ling run away like that with my stupid panic”

“Its not your fault Wei Ying”

Wei Wuxian didn’t agree but he didn’t really feel like arguing the point right now.

“Keep doing that Lan Zhan” he murmured instead, urging the other to run the towel over his hair again.

***

Luckily Jin Ling made a full recovery in a few days, and Yanli didn’t blame We Wuxian for making him run away.

It was the night before Christmas Eve and a town tradition to hold a night market filled with crafts and food and mulled everything.

Wei Wuxian made his way over to Lan Zhan and curled into his side, passing him one of the hot chocolates he’d bought while the other man pulled him in tighter with an arm over his shoulder.

They watched the elementary school’s choir sing for a while in the glittering lights from the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the square.

“Lan Zhan” Wei Wuxian said eventually, and the other looked at him.

“Mn?”

“Don’t you think this is all a bit cliché? Like a cheesy Christmas movie? You know, where the sassy city-slicker hero goes back to Podunk USA for Christmas and falls in love with the quiet pretty girl from High School who always secretly had a crush on him but was too shy to ever say anything?” he rubbed his chin trying to smother his laughter. He yelped and tried to get away when Lan Zhan nipped at his side in retribution.

“OK, OK. I’m sorry I’m sorry” he surrendered, but he still couldn’t stop the giggles.

Eventually Lan Zhan just turned to him and pulled him close.

“Wei Ying” he said, “shut up” and closed his lips over Wei Wuxian’s in a slow, lingering kiss that left him with no breath to laugh any more.

#mdzs fic #modern AU #wei wuxian #lan wangji #WangXian #A Very WangXian christmas #silliness #shay's stuff #mdzs #A very wangxian holidays

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fanficnewbie · 5 years ago

Text

“Open Heart Fanfic: 72 Hours & Beyond” Chapter Eight

This is my first story/series. The first 5 chapters are adaptations from the first 4 parts of “A Weekend with Dr. Ramsey” series with permission from @alwaysmychoices and then I continue my own original work in chapters 6-14.

I start this adapted storyline during Chapter 15 of the original OH series. There is a bit of AU, where I play around with the storyline a bit and insert two days between MC leaving the country club and returning to her apartment to find Landry packing. Some situations have been changed to keep with the original vision of @alwaysmychoices and make the story work in the direction I wanted it to go. However, I find my way back to the original in Chapters 6-8 and then move on past the ending of Book One during chapters 9-14.My MC is female, Francesca Houseman, who has only had eyes for Ethan Ramsey from day one.

*This chapter borrows a few lines of dialogue adapted from @alwaysmychoices Brunch chapter because I thought they were so fun.*

FULL SERIES

Chapter Eight: “Recovery”

7553 words

This entry retells the story of Banjeri’s recovery, the ethics hearing and the last night with MC and Ethan.

(NSFW)

Francesca lay awake in bed, surprised that she had beaten her alarm after taking sleeping meds the previous night; yet savoring the few minutes of silence before her world was potentially turned upside down. Today was the Ethics Hearing, today her fate would be sealed. She closed her eyes to enjoy the last precious seconds of peace before her alarm started beeping. As she moved to shut it off, the door opened and her friends piled in – like they were waiting for the sound as their cue.

She sat up amazed as they all started talking at once, giving her the advice they’d gleaned the night before to help her prepare.

Sienna insisted she have a hearty breakfast while Jackie explained the merits of dressing the part. Elijah repeated words that make people sympathetic: “Butterfly, Rainbow, Cupcake, Grandma”. Bryce, who she gathered must have crashed on their couch, had gotten her up and out of the bed to position her in poses he was convinced would instill confidence.

“Wait, wait!” Francesca tried to quiet them, at once overwhelmed and appreciative. “Will you people listen for a second?”

They all stopped and looked at her impatiently, eager to share their individual plans to get her through this. She took a deep breath, genuinely touched by how much they cared about her, “Thank you. No matter what happens today…I couldn’t do this without you. All of you.”

Sienna’s eyes brimmed with tears, “Group hug!” Jackie immediately stepped out of the way but Bryce grabbed her arm and pulled her back in for the big embrace. Sienna held on the longest, when she pulled back she looked at Francesca encouragingly, “Get dressed okay. We have a lot to do.”

Alone again, Francesca reached for her phone, anxious for an update from Ethan. He had sent a text confirming that Dr. Banjeri was still alive. The bacteria levels had decreased exponentially and now his body was fighting the phage. They had administered the meds to help with that fight, but he didn’t expect any immediate answers. She sighed relieved and nervous as she put down her phone. Now it was just a waiting game to see what would happen. But if it worked, they were almost there.

A short while later, after Francesca was dressed, fed and had received all the advice and instructions she could manage from her friends, they headed over as one group to Edenbrook. The ten-minute walk had never felt so long.

When they arrived, Francesca wondered if this would be her last time there. With so much on the line, everything about the hospital looked the same - but somehow different. She turned to Bryce, “I think I’m starting to get nervous…”

Bryce put a warning hand on her shoulder, “Don’t let them see it.”

Elijah overheard the exchange, “You’ve got this Francesca.”

Crossing the atrium, Francesca spotted Aurora and turned away from her. She recognized that what she needed the most was support, not insults or sarcasm. But Aurora walked up to her anyway, “Hey Francesca?”

Francesca heard Jackie as she whispered, “Ugh. It’s Princess Nepotism” behind her. She stopped and turned to Aurora who paused only to say, “Good luck in there.”

Shocked, Francesca stammered her reply, “Oh, uh… thanks Aurora.” Aurora nodded and quickly walked away. Sienna voiced what everyone was thinking, “The heck was that about?”

Francesca spotted Ethan waiting just outside the lecture hall, still in his clothes from the night before, she surged forward while her friends hung back.

“Ethan! I mean, Dr. Ramsey! What are you doing here? Is Dr. Banjeri…”

Ethan had to consciously stop himself from taking her arm or hand to reassure her, instead, he simply nodded, “He hasn’t woken up, still fighting the phage. I have Dr. Olsen keeping an eye on him with specific instructions on what to do if he recovers in time.”

Even though Francesca was thrilled that Ethan was there, her fear for Dr. Banjeri still nagged, “But, shouldn’t you be with him?”

Ethan ran his hand through his hair, “I’ve done all I can for him. And I think he’d want me here, supporting you. I know he would be if he could.”

Francesca smiled at Ethan as she remembered Dr. Banjeri’s words, He may hold you at arm's length, but he never lets you go… He returned the smile, not understanding the full reason behind it, “Hey, stand tall. You haven’t lost your license yet.

“Yet being the operative word.”

Ethan shook his head, “If the past 24 hours have taught us anything, it’s that nothing is set in stone. I still cannot testify but like I told you last night, I’m not out of tricks.”

“Yeah, what exactly did you mean by---”

Sienna stepped up, interrupting them by gently touching her arm, “Francesca? It’s time to go inside.”

Over the upcoming years when Francesca would think back to the Ethics Hearing, her memory would come in flashes: Declan taunting her, grateful patients testifying on her behalf, senior physicians acknowledging their support. There were some highlights, Jake Sandburg testifying caused a good buzz; and she always got a bit teary-eyed when she remembered the two witnesses procured by Ramsey to testify in her defense: Mr. Martinez who hugged and thanked her for what she did for his mom; and Delores’ sister stating her firm belief that Francesca had helped to save baby Ethan’s life by salvaging his mother’s last gift for him, a stuffed frog, and keeping it close while he fought for survival.

However, the part that burned brightest was the appearance of Dr. Banjeri. The shockwaves that reverberated in the room when he came through the doors were palpable. Her first thought upon seeing him wasn’t that he would save her, it was astonishment at the realization that she had managed to save him. It was an indescribable feeling of knowing that with Naveen’s health restored, Ethan would be resurrected. For those moments any thoughts of her career were secondary, and it was Ethan’s redemption she focused on, not her own.

Of course, Dr. Banjeri’s arrival and announcement at her part in his survival immediately convinced the doctors to vote unanimously in her favor. That being said, she was pretty confident the hearing was already going her way, as only Dr. Wen and Dr. Cyrus seemed to still be following Declan’s lead. The others were starting to accept her argument that by helping Mrs. Martinez live the life she wanted, if even for a short while, Francesca had served her best needs as a doctor. Even Harper voted for her, by that point seemingly considering more than just Francesca’s future. During the recess, she had gotten in an argument with Aurora about her overbearing attitude towards her, and when the proceedings resumed, her mind seemed to remain elsewhere.

Once the hearing was adjourned, Francesca walked up to the panel to give her thanks to all of the doctors, even Wen and Cyrus. She knew she’d be working with them again and wanted to prove that she was worth supporting over Declan Nash. Then, with tears in her eyes, she fell into Dr. Banjeri’s waiting arms and gave him the biggest hug his frail body could take. She was beyond grateful that her prayers had been answered as his bright eyes twinkled with their appreciation. When she looked into them, the tears finally fell from her own as she exclaimed, “I can’t believe you’re here!”

He stepped back, welcoming a hug from Ethan who had come down to join them.

“Neither can I, but Dr. Olsen insisted that he was under strict orders to get me here to cast my vote, and who am I to defy my doctor’s orders?” He smiled at Ethan mischievously.

It was only then that Francesca noticed Landry standing towards the back, watching the scene unfold. She turned to Ethan, incredulous, “Those were your specific instructions to Dr. Olsen if Dr. Banjeri woke up?”

He shrugged sheepishly, “Tricks Rookie, I told you I had a few.”

She laughed and turned to motion to her friends that she’d meet them outside in the atrium. Harper came over to walk Dr. Banjeri out and Ethan walked Francesca back to the lectern so she could gather her things – that’s where they found Declan sitting, staring, fuming. He had just been admonished by Harper for keeping the efficacy of medicine Francesca had stolen a secret, and Harper also threatened to expose Panacea Labs if they didn’t start testing the drugs further. The public humiliation was making him unstable.

“This isn’t over. I still have that deal you signed Ramsey. You’ll be seeing a lot of me around here.”

Ethan looked nonplussed, “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it Nash, go home.”

Declan puffed out his chest and tried to look intimidating, “And if I don’t? What are you going to do, punch me again?”

Francesca balled her hand into a fist, fully ready to take him up on the offer, but Ethan noticed and covered her hand with his, silently suggesting restraint.

So instead she reminded him of his humiliation, “I think you’ve been embarrassed enough for one day.”

She walked away with Ethan, leaving Declan simmering,

“Enough? I haven’t been embarrassed enough yet! Not by a long shot! I can take way more embarrassment!” Declan yelled after her, clearly coming unhinged.

Unable to hold back her disdain, Francesca called over her shoulder, “Fuck you Declan.”

After they walked out into the atrium Dr. Houseman and Dr. Ramsey were forced to part ways. She was pulled into the waiting arms of her cheering friends and he headed over to confer with Dr. Emery and Dr. Banjeri.

She caught a glimpse of him as she was whisked off by the crowd of interns. He had a protective hand on Dr. Banjeri’s shoulder, broadly smiling. Her heart ballooned with happiness at the sight of the two of them together as doctors again.

She spent the rest of her afternoon dealing with HR paperwork, catching up on her cases and acknowledging the congratulations of nearly every staff member in the hospital. She was amazed at how many people supported her behind the scenes and wondered how many of them supported her before she won her case, or had helped Dr. Banjeri recover. But she decided that she was done with it all now. It was over, she had won and now wanted the whole thing behind her - well, after the party at Donohue’s.

Francesca had looked for Ethan throughout the day to see if he would be at Donohue’s that night, but he was nowhere to be found. She knew he didn’t exactly work there anymore but she hadn’t expected him to just leave. By late afternoon she started to get anxious but then it occurred that he was likely exhausted, having been up with Dr. Banjeri all of the previous night. Maybe he had just gone home to see Jenner and get some sleep. She decided to have some faith and let him be.

By the time Sienna found her in the cafeteria, Francesca was ready to celebrate. She needed to release all of the tension and anxiety she had endured over the previous 36 hours and tried to gulp down a burger and fries so that something was in her system when the alcohol landed. Her plans to “never drink again” had been permanently discarded.

“Come on, everyone is waiting for you.” Sienna motioned at her from across the room.

Stuffing the last handful of fries in her face, Francesca got up and followed her out. She arrived at Donohue’s to a deafening cheer. The bar was packed with friends and colleagues. Even her landlord, Farley, was there yelling for her to give a “Speeeeeeeech!” Elijah followed his lead and soon had the whole bar chanting, “Speech, speech, speech!”

Francesca stood there awkwardly, “Uh okay…” with nothing planned and having already thanked the people she needed to, she said what was truly on her mind, “...Let’s drink like it’s the first day of our residency!”

The patrons cheered in response. She laughed to herself, thinking she could have probably said anything and they would have cheered just the same.

Francesca followed Jackie and Sienna to the bar as the revelry raged around them. She was ready to drink anything, except tequila. Sienna leaned in so they could hear her, “This year was insane. How do we have two more years of this?”

Jackie made a face, “And with both Banjeri and Ramsey coming back, there’s still no spot on the Diagnostics team. We’re back to Square One.” She looked around, making sure nobody else was paying attention, “But for what it’s worth Francesca, you would have won, probably.” She paused, a sly smirk on her face, “Even without the extra credit.”

Francesca blushed and then mocked her, “That must have been really painful for you to say.”

“It was, now I need a drink to wash the taste out of my mouth,” Jackie ordered them a round.

Francesca spent the next few hours hanging out with all of her friends. Bryce, Raphael, and Kyra joined them at the bar. Francesca was thrilled to see Raphael up and out of the hospital, even though he still had another month to fully recover. Kyra invited him to sit with her during her chemo treatments, correctly assuming that an EMT wouldn’t be scared off by that sort of thing. Francesca hoped she was seeing the beginning of a love connection and smiled sweetly at them as she said a silent prayer for Kyra’s full recovery.

Ines, who Francesca suddenly realized was just a Senior Resident version of Sienna, ran up to give her a hug. “I’m so, so, so glad you get to stay.” Francesca returned the gesture while Zaid stood nearby and rolled his eyes.

He tipped his glass towards her, “I have to admit, I’d be very sad if you didn’t make it to your second year as a senior resident...and never had your own interns annoying the crap out of you. This way you’ll finally have a chance to know my pain.”

Francesca tipped her drink in return, now well versed in dealing with his sarcasm, “That means we’ll be equals soon.”

Zaid looked incredulous, “It most certainly does not.”

Jackie piped up smirking, “I dunno, I’m preeeetty sure Francesca’s right.”

Ines confirmed their theory, “Yes, and as equals, we can hang out way more!”

Zaid grumbled under his breath, “What did I do in a past life to deserve this?” He walked away, Ines following. Francesca went to mingle with the crowd and as she stepped away she overheard Bryce asking the group, “So hey, are they a couple?”

Another hour passed during which Francesca danced with Sienna and finally received confirmation that she did have a crush on Danny, but she also understood Sienna’s desire to be on her own for a while after her brutal breakup. Conversely, Elijah and Phoebe looked to be doing quite well together and Francesca truly hoped that Elijah was joking when he acted non-committal to the relationship, explaining that “a player’s gotta play.”

Landry sat at a booth by himself, seemingly waiting for Francesca to acknowledge him but she had nothing more to say, so instead, she went over to Aurora who sat alone in a corner with a beer, flipping through her phone. Francesca had never even seen her at Donahue’s before. She walked up to her surprised, “You came!”

Aurora rolled her eyes, “You always did like stating the obvious, You don’t have to check on me by the way, I’m used to being alone.”

Francesca could see the listings for one-bedroom apartments on her phone and quickly put things together, remembering the fight she had witnessed between Aurora and her Aunt earlier that day. Before she could stop herself, Francesca offered Aurora Landry’s vacant room,

Aurora reacted, clearly thrown, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Francesca realized that she was, “Yeah, I mean I have to ask my roommates but...it’s not like we can afford the place on our own. Think about it.”

Aurora looked as if she wanted to immediately accept, but she only murmured that she would consider the offer.

By this time Francesca noticed that Landry had left and while she was glad he had gone, she was also acutely aware of Ethan’s absence. Where was he?

Trying to hide her disappointment she headed back to the bar, where Sienna ordered them another round while Jackie cracked open a beer and took a swig.

“Honestly Francesca, I don’t know what you’re still doing here. If I’d just survived an existential threat to my livelihood, I’d be going home with the hottest person I could find.” Jackie arched her eyebrow, obviously baiting her.

Francesca deflected, “There’s plenty of time for that.”

Bryce and Kyra returned to the bar to refill their glasses, Bryce grabbed another beer and Kyra, seltzer water for her and Rafael. Francesca smiled to herself as she overheard the order and then remembered,

“Hey, did any of you speak to Landry? He was here for a while but then he disappeared.”

“You mean the lying piece of shit we no longer acknowledge,” Jackie corrected.

“No, the snake who shall not be named,” Sienna chimed in.

“Ah, the fucker we kill on sight,” Bryce added in for good measure.

Francesca laughed, “Yes, so?”

Jackie came clean, “He walked over to say goodbye and let me know he was transferring to Mass Kenmore, I think he wanted to tell you himself but,” she took a swig, “who gives a flying fuck what he wants?”

Bryce clinked Jackie’s glass at her last comment, then he and Kyra made their way back to Raphael and their ongoing darts competition.

Francesca thought for a moment, “Mass Kenmore? That’s rather sudden.”

Sienna shrugged, “The way I look at it, just one less asshole we’ll have to deal with next year.”

Jackie and Francesca looked at each other, both shocked at Sienna’s language, then busted up laughing. Jackie clinked her glass with Sienna’s, “To bad influences!”

Francesca grabbed another cocktail and chatted with her friends, enjoying the camaraderie and conversation. However, the more time she spent with them, the more she kept glancing at the back door, willing for Ethan to show up. Not wanting to have to chase him down...again; not sure that she even could. Her stomach churned.

Sienna finally noticed, “Who are you looking for?”

Francesca tried to play it off, “No one. I’m not looking for…”

Just then Ethan walked through the door.

Sienna’s face lit up, “Ohhhhhhhh”.

Francesca looked around innocently while relief flooded her body, “‘Oh’, what ‘oh’? there’s no ‘oh’ here.” But she couldn’t hide how pleased she was to see him.

Sienna grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye, “You heard Jackie earlier right? You know he’s coming back, I heard Chief Emery offered him his old job. Tomorrow your suspension is over, you’ll be an intern at Edenbrook and he’ll be an attending. But tonight, it’s just like the other night right? You’re not an intern, and he’s not an attending, you’re both just people. Catch my drift?”

Francesca nodded at Sienna was already one step ahead of her, she had just needed for Ethan to show up. He had barely gotten inside the bar when she walked up to him, fully fueled by her pulsing need and the alcohol coursing through her body”.

He tried to explain, “Sorry I’m late, I had some business to attend to.”

Francesca nodded in understanding and touched his arm, not in the mood to waste time, “Come home with me tonight, I’m gonna lose it if I don’t get you in bed right now.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her unabashedness, “Well we wouldn’t want that would we?” The hint of a playful smirk crossed his face. “What are we waiting for?”

Glancing around quickly, Francesca caught Sienna smiling at her knowingly, everyone else was seemingly oblivious to her departure. She overheard Ethan make an awkward excuse to another intern as they walked out together. He only managed to completely confuse the guy, who hadn’t been paying them any attention. She laughed as they stepped onto the street.

“You are so bad at being subtle.”

His surprise was genuine, “What are you talking about? I played that extremely well.”

She rolled her eyes, and then stepped up to him, her heartbeat quickening as she brought her lips close to his, “Your place or mine?”

He made a quick calculation, “Yours is closer.”

She leaned back slightly, “What about Jenner?”

He pulled her back in, “Jenner is fine. I called in my dog sitter since I was gone all last night too. Plus I saw him for a bit this afternoon. I mean, he gets upset when I’m away but he’s a dog, he always remembers he loves me the moment I walk back into the house.” Then he considered for a moment, softening, “...but I was gone all last night, so I should probably get home before the morning.”

Francesca nodded, “I understand, I certainly don’t want him upset with me for keeping you away.”

She took his hand, planning to walk the 10 minutes to her place when a cab pulled up to let some people out. She turned to him, “A cab gets us there 6 minutes faster…”

They jumped in. Sitting in the darkened vehicle, she reached her hand across the middle seat to find his. His fingers intertwined with hers and squeezed, both looked straight ahead, the electricity already pulsing through their bodies at this simple touch - a promise of so much more to come.

Standing with him at her building as she opened the main door, Francesca was suddenly astounded by all that had happened since the last time they were both there. My god, she thought, that was just yesterday morning.

Ethan was quiet and he trailed slightly behind, waiting for her to gain entry into the actual apartment, which she abruptly noticed was so shabby compared to his. Francesca looked up, suddenly nervous to have him in her space she talked quickly, “My room is at the end and Landry’s was right next to it, it’s obviously empty so noise shouldn’t be a factor. Plus they’ll stay out late tonight, I mean it’s barely 10pm now so I’m sure they won’t be back for another couple of hours.” Ethan listened, disinterested, as she led him to her room, “Uh sorry for the mess in here, I just --”

He closed the door behind him, cutting her off, “I don’t give a damn about your apartment.”

Francesca looked up to see his eyes fixed on her, and her heart skipped a beat. All thoughts of her living arrangements vanished as she looked at the man standing in front of her.

His gaze on her never wavered as he brought her close, her breath shuddered in anticipation and her skin flushed, eagerly awaiting his touch. “Ethan” she breathed as he touched her cheek, lifting her chin slightly so his lips met hers.

She melted into the kiss, a wave of longing, anxiety, fear and desire crashed down on her. She moaned into his mouth and pulled him closer, her hands traced his jaw and ran through his hair. His hands were on her waist holding her to him, their bodies pressed together. She felt the physical presence of his arousal and it made her entire body throb.

His hands ran up her sides, to her shoulders, trying to tug her jacket off without breaking the kiss. Francesca suddenly pulled back, a plan forming. She walked Ethan to the edge of her bed and then pushed him back until he was sitting. Still unsure of her intentions, he reached for her but she stepped out of his grasp, smiling seductively, “No touching, just watch.”

He leaned back on the bed and sucked in his breath, looking as she took another step back and slowly, so slowly, started peeling off her clothes. The sight was mesmerizing and tortuous. “Francesca, you’re killing me.”

“Patience Ethan, patience,” she gave him a devilish smile as she repeated his words back to him, enjoying the bare longing on his face as she uncovered herself. He watched as she undid her blouse and stepped out of her pants, her body perfectly lit by the moonlight shining through the curtains. He sucked in his breath as she unclasped her bra, watching intently as her nipples instantly hardened when exposed to the cool air. His hands clenched as she shimmied out of her panties, finally standing completely naked before him.

He groaned, “God, I want to make you feel so good.”

She bit her lower lip, her body hummed with anticipation as she thought about all that could mean. She took a step towards him, teasing, “I doubt there’s anything that could make me feel better than the way you’re looking at me right now,” she stood before him, hands on his shoulders as she looked down on him. “...but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

She straddled him, leaning down to meet his kiss while his hands urgently explored her body. Wanting more of him, she gently pushed him back to lay on the bed while she remained on top. She opened his sweater and started unbuttoning his shirt. Ethan had gotten the hint by now that she wanted to be in charge, so he let her push his clothes aside while he massaged her neck, her back, her ass, any place that he could reach. Then she started to kiss down his body, moving just out of his grasp again.

“What are you…”

“Shh” she whispered against his muscled skin, her hands followed her lips and blazed a trail downward, lower and lower causing him to suck in his breath once more. Finding her target she began to unbuckle his pants. He helped her pull them and his briefs down just enough until he was completely exposed. He watched as she looked at this part of him hungrily and he closed his eyes to prepare himself for the onslaught of what he knew was about to happen.

Francesca took him in her hand and positioned him, following with her mouth. Finding her rhythm, her mouth and hands moved in sync as Ethan groaned in pleasure, he arched his back and ran his hands through her hair as he tried to steady himself against the storm she was creating in his body.

He propped himself up slightly and watched her work. “You’re incredible.” He was barely able to speak the words as his pleasure built and he fell back down onto the bed, marveling at how she could bring him to the edge so quickly, so effortlessly. His muscles tensed and flexed as he got close, too close - and with willpower he didn’t know he had - he gently pulled her away and back up to him, admonishing, “No, not yet.”

She nodded in understanding and then looked at him, puzzled, asking breathlessly “Why are you still dressed?” They quickly finished removing his clothes, now with an urgency they both shared to feel and taste each other with nothing in their way. Finally unencumbered, he pulled her down on top of him, loving the feel of her soft body pressed against his muscled core, skin to skin. Her legs parted and she pressed herself against his hardness, rocking against it, moaning with the feel of him rubbing against her slick skin. “I want you, Ethan, I need you right now.”

He grasped her hips and her back and effortlessly flipped her over, gazing at her in the soft light of the bedroom. “Francesca”, the way he said her name revealed the depth of his need for her.

“Please”, she moaned as she felt his lips on her breasts as he kissed and caressed her nipples, her body undulating from his touch. She parted her legs wider for him, sliding her hands down his back and drawing him closer, she could feel him start to push forward, “Oh yes Ethan, please take me,” she begged in pure bliss as he positioned her body to better receive him, her nails dug into his back as she lifted her hips to meet his. The sensations washed over her in waves as he slowly filled her, setting her body ablaze as she cried out, “Oh, god, yes!”

Ethan buried his head in her neck to absorb the powerful sensations that were running through his own body and threatened to overwhelm him at every thrust. He held on tight, his pace quickened, his muscles tensed and he measured himself in her over and over and over again. He groaned as her body wrapped around him - matching his every movement. He grabbed her thighs and pushed them towards his shoulders, re-positioning himself inside of her, pumping deeper.

“Ethan, please, Ethan, don’t stop, please,” every time she gasped his name his blood ran hotter, like a siren beckoning him, but he didn’t want it to end either, this connection, this possession, knowing that at this moment she was fully his and he was hers. He kept up his pace, fighting the inevitable as he looked down at her. His heated gaze met hers and her resolve to hold on dissipated, her words to him a whispered confession, “I can’t,...”, he watched her eyes go wide, felt her skin flush, heard her breath hitch and his constant onslaught suddenly overwhelmed her as she called out his name again when the full force of her orgasm hit her and pushed her into a chasm of pure ecstasy. Even with her warning, Ethan wasn’t prepared as her body spasmed and tightened against his while her glittering cries echoed throughout the room. So he closed his eyes and finally let go, following her straight over the edge, her name on his lips in total surrender.

They lay on the bed for endless minutes, catching their breaths, sweaty and satiated until both were overtaken with exhaustion and they fell asleep entwined in each other's arms.

Francesca woke first, she heard the front door open and close, the drunk whispers, which weren’t whispers at all, and the exaggerated giggles that announced her roommates had returned. She craned her neck to look at her alarm, almost 2am. She was surprised they stayed out so late, surmising they had probably gotten food before coming home. She listened a bit longer, until there was silence again, everyone safely in their rooms - moments away from their respective drunken slumbers.

She tried to fall back asleep, she grasped at the dream she remembered but couldn’t completely remember. It was a pleasant one, that’s all she knew for sure. She turned her head to look at Ethan, he was on his back now, one arm under her head, the other under his. The sheet tangled around his legs and torso, his breathing was constant and steady - content. If the noise had awakened him, it was only for a moment and not nearly enough to deprive him of his continued respite.

Ethan Ramsey was in her bed, the thought astounded Francesa. This was the man she idolized for almost a decade, the man who inspired her to become a doctor in the first place. She first learned of his name during high school, when working on a research paper for her junior year biology class. He had been her age now and was already published in several medical journals. She smiled to herself, if that young schoolgirl had only known all of the sexual things Dr. Ramsey would do to her later in life. Francesca mused on her nerdy innocence in high school. It was better that she didn’t know, that girl couldn’t have handled it.

Giving up on sleep entirely, she shifted towards Ethan and started absentmindedly stroking his chest. He had done everything he said he would do - even more actually. He had kept his promises, but tomorrow, everything changed. He’d be an attending again, she, an intern. They were back to square one, where it was all the same but completely different. It worried her, how would he reconcile this in his mind? Did he have the capacity to push her away again, to turn his back on this glimpse of what they could be together? She started to ponder about all that she knew about him and concluded that the answer was “no”. If he was intent on shutting her out, he wouldn’t be there with her now, certainly not in her apartment. He wouldn’t have shown up at Donohue’s, he wouldn’t have left Jenner for a second night. He’d be gone already, and she’d be alone once more. Somehow, he had found a way to make this right in his mind, he had figured out a way to be with her. She was almost certain of it.

Francesca adjusted again and recognized the familiar ache as she continued to touch him. Suddenly it wasn’t enough to be next to him, she wanted to be part of him again. She needed their bodies to express the emotions that they were not ready to put into words. Her hand dipped lower, stroking, and rather quickly, Ethan woke up too.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, looking down at her.

She giggled softly, “Do you really have to ask?”

“What time is it?”

“Still really early in the morning,” by now she had received the physical response she desired and started pushing the sheets out of the way. She moved her leg over his waist, settling herself on top.

“Francesca,” Ethan could make out her silhouette from the moonlight still casting a glow through the darkened room, she looked like a goddess.

“Shhhh, we have to be quiet, everyone is back home.”

He started to say something else but she already had him in her hands, guiding him to her, sinking down on him and taking him completely. His breath caught at the swiftness of the action and his mind momentarily went blank as his hands grasped her hips and urged her to move.

Francesca threw her head back at the shock of being so completely penetrated, having him so deeply within her, she gritted her teeth to keep from screaming at the pleasure pervading her body. She moved with his hands, grinding against him, leaning forward when he reached up to bring her to him, his mouth covered hers hotly in an all-consuming kiss as he rocked her hips faster. This time around they both desperately craved the rapturous release that they had tried so hard to delay just hours before.

Francesca broke the kiss and buried her face in Ethan’s neck, trying to stifle her moans against his skin. She clenched at the sheets as she once again reached the point of losing all control. With ragged breaths, Ethan used the last of his energy to start driving his hips up to meet her downward thrusts, the change in pace and friction gave them what they both needed and she muffled her cry against his shoulder - overcome by an internal tidal wave of pleasure crashing through her body as he gave in with a silent scream of orgasmic relief.

Hours later, Francesca was roused by her beeping alarm. She was still wrapped in Ethan’s embrace, he was already awake, gazing at the ceiling.

She silenced the clock and then turned and looked at him lazily, “I thought you said you couldn’t spend the night?”

He shrugged, a few hours earlier he discovered that he just couldn’t find the proper motivation to leave her bed, “I...found myself convinced otherwise.”

She moved slightly to get up but he stilled her, “No. Not yet. When we get up, it’s over.”

Francesca nestled into him for one last moment, “I know. But I’ve gotta get you outta here before my roommates wake up.”

A few minutes later Ethan acquiesced, and they both got out of bed to quickly and quietly get dressed. But something gnawed at her… “When you said ‘it’s over’, you meant this night, us right now...” She looked at him, trying not to show her increasing panic, “Not us completely…?”

Ethan glanced up as he buckled his pants, “It is different, we’re back at Edenbrook, I’m your boss again, the complications are still there. However…,” he walked over to her, pushed a stray curl behind her ear and reassured her, “I always knew the moment I crossed this line, I wouldn’t be able to go back so,” he kissed the tip of her nose, “...I definitely did not mean us completely.”

He watched as her whole body visibly relaxed and that was when he realized how much Francesca was still in turmoil over his feelings for her, even after he had already promised her that he wouldn’t leave. He was disappointed in his understanding that his past actions were the cause of her lingering doubt. He knew he needed to give her a stronger assurance, and after a thoughtful moment, he placed his hands at the nape of her neck and tilted her head so he was able to look into her eyes, “I’m right here Francesca. I’m all in.”

Francesca’s eyes closed as she savored his words and she was quite sure she had never been happier in her life than she was standing in her bedroom listening to Ethan commit to her, in his Ethan Ramsey way. She opened her eyes, smiled at him and exhaled, pulling his head to hers for a kiss as she murmured against his lips, “I’m all in too.”

They were not the three words that expressed the totality of how they felt about each other, but it was a solid start.

They released each other to finish getting dressed as Francesca hypothesized, “You know, you’re really just ‘a’ boss, not ‘my’ boss. I mean there are a lot of attendings.” She grabbed her shirt, “Technically Ines would be my direct boss, she’s my Senior Resident along with Zaid. So as long as I’m not sleeping with either of them...” she shrugged, “...it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Ethan chuckled as he picked his sweater up from the floor, “That’s a very interesting and convenient way of looking at things Rookie.”

Fully dressed, Francesca hurried Ethan to the front door only to see Elijah and Sienna sitting at the table for breakfast. Everyone froze, unsure of what to say before Sienna broke the silence,

“Uh, good morning, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan stumbled his reply, “Hrm, er...good morning, Trinh. Greene.” He nodded curtly and continued towards the door.

Elijah called after him, “If you’re hanging out here, wanna come back for my John Carpenter movie marathon?”

Francesca was mortified, “Elijah, shhhh!” He flashed a wide grin, clearly trolling her, but Sienna gave a thumbs-up. Francesca blushed deeply, embarrassed but also somehow pleased. Then as she walked Ethan out she could hear him muttering “...interns...” as he walked down the hallway and she laughed to herself.

As they exited the main building he turned to her and asked, “Can they be trusted to keep a secret?”

She cocked her head, trying to figure out if he was serious. “Um, if they could keep my secret about Mrs. Martinez from Harper Emery, while being interrogated by Harper Emery, I think they can handle this.”

He chuckled, remembering, “Touche.”

She touched his arm as he turned to go, “Give Jenner a belly rub for me, and tell him I’m sorry for keeping you another night.” She grinned at him, “ I’ll see you at work.”

He kissed her forehead, “Yes and remember Rookie, boundaries.”

She smiled, recalling the last time he said that to her, “I’ll do my best...as long as we don’t end up in any supply closets.”

He shook his head, amused as he walked off.

Later that morning Francesca was back at Edenbrook with Dr. Ines, “Welcome back, doctor.” Ines slid her hospital ID across the desk. She grabbed it, beaming.

“Thanks, Ines, I can’t wait to--” She’s cut short by a cry of alarm behind her, she turned in time to see a man collapse out of his seat. Francesca slipped her ID badge to her pocket and winked at Ines, “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

A short while later she jogged across the atrium and joined a crowd of doctors and nurses at the foot of the stairs. They’d all been summoned, she figured it was to officially welcome Dr. Banjeri back.

Harper stood on the landing, looking at the group. “Thank you all for coming. I just have a few short announcements…”

Searching for her friends she saw and passed by Ethan, their eyes met and he hesitated before acknowledging her.

“Dr. Houseman.”

“Dr. Ramsey…”

Francesca knew he was doing his damndest to be subtle and she struggled not to laugh. She turned away to avoid the sudden urge to touch him and weaved through the crowd, stopping beside Bryce and Jackie.

Jackie spotted her, “Are you seriously late on your first day back?”

“Sorry, had to resuscitate a guy in the waiting room.”

Bryce nudged her, “You get to have all the fun.”

Dr. Harper Emery continued, “I’d like to thank you all for your support and service during my year as hospital chief…but after much deliberation, I have decided to step down, to return to my previous post as head neurosurgery.”

The crowd rumbled with shocked chatter and a smattering of applause. Francesca noticed as Aurora smiled, bigger than she’d ever seen her smile before...had she seen Aurora smile before at all?

Bryce clapped his hands together, excitement in his eyes, “Are you kidding me? I get to do surgeries with Harper Emery all the time now? I am blessed.”

Harper went on, “Thank you all. I’m eager to get back into scrubs, and I couldn’t do it without someone very qualified to hand the reins to. Please welcome our new chief of medicine, Naveen Banjeri.”

The crowd cheered and clapped as Naveen joined Harper, his cane still in hand. Francesca noticed Ethan standing by the wall looking shocked.

Naveen took Harper’s place, “As many of you know, my health has taken a recent turn. It has required me to step away from the busy caseload of my diagnostics team. But I’m leaving it in the very capable hands of Dr. Ramsey”

Everyone turned to applaud Ethan, he was stunned, “Wait, what? What the hell is happening?”

Most people didn’t notice Ethan’s surprise at his new promotion or register his words of confusion, it was all lost over the sounds of their own applause. Francesca tried to make sense of it her mind - is it his new promotion or old promotion? Technically Ethan was already head of the team when Benjari left so… the crowd dispersed before she could come up with a suitable answer.

She lingered nearby and watched as Ethan marched up to Naveen and Harper.

“Administration Naveen? Really? You hate administrators.”

Naveen shook his head, “No, my friend. You do. But now that I am one, I’m sure you and I can strike a balance.”

Harper laughed, “Ha. Good luck with that one, Naveen.”

Ethan stood there, shellshocked as Harper and Naven turned to go...then noticing that Francesca was still there, Naveen looked back.

“Oh, and Ethan… this will leave an open spot on the diagnostics team after all. And I think I know who I want to take it.”

When she realized he was talking about her, Francesca was momentarily flabbergasted, “Me?” Naveen raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled, “I knew I saved you for a reason.”

Naveen’s eyes were bright and jovial, “These things do have a way of working out, don’t they?”

Ethan was perturbed, “Houseman? But...she...”

Banjeri looked at him quizzically, “You don’t think she’s proven herself worthy to train with the team?”

Ethan tried to explain a way out, “Of course she has. But we--”

Banjeri cut him off, “Excellent. It’s settled. Dr. Houseman will spend her second year as the junior fellow on the diagnostics team… with you as her direct supervisor. Congratulations, Francesca. You’ve earned it.”

Naveen smiled and walked away with Harper who was trying to hide her own amusement, leaving them alone.

Francesca walked up to him, biting her lip, “So, um… how do we deal with this?”

Ethan shrugged, and shook his head, still processing the sudden turn of events, “We make it work. What matters are the patients, right?”

Francesca nodded and chose to trust him, “...Right.”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his head…”Well then... Get to work, Rookie.”

She smiled, “...Yes, doctor.”

Leaving him behind, she walked through the once-confusing halls with her head high, unable to wipe the smile from her face. Finally, she reached the first patient’s door. Francesca remembered the nerves she felt on her first day with amusement. She thought to herself, if only I’d realized what I was capable of.

She checked the patient’s chart, familiarizing herself with the details before opening the door, poised and confident.

“Hi there. I’m Francesca Houseman, and I’ll be your doctor today.”

CHAPTER NINE

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #dr ramsey #edenbrook #choices #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #fanfic #open heart choices #romance #choices fandom #ramsey stan

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whosxafraid · 6 years ago

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How We Say Goodbye

Tracked from [ + ]

Borrowed time.

Humans think of it, weigh it and measure it, by events. A moment they believe they should have died and didn’t. But the reality is they can never really understand the true meaning of it, simply because at some point...all mortals die. So their outlook, their view of that continuous way in which they measure the length of a meeting, a day--a life--is limited at best. And while in his younger years it had infuriated him, frustrated him to the point of running off into the actual woods and living as a heathen for a few hundred years--now in this modern age where lives are planned down to the hour, sometimes minute--he understands why it is limited. They chose to keep it that way so they can feel in control. Make themselves comfortable with the false belief they will inevitability get to say when they do what they do and why.

He and maybe he should have seen it coming as she said. Maybe he had and dismissed it. Seen that aspect of the human condition would someday slither its way into this momentary but no less beautiful and precious (to him) existence that he had found with Jayden Morgan. Because that was part of the runes burned into him back was it not? To inevitably take away anything and everything that could potentially bring him some kind of soul altering peace.

And she’s certainly not the first to do this to him, but she is the first to name it. Confront it as what she believes it to be. Which is he had stepped into this correlation of her and him by choice. That he had chosen to bide his time, share her breathing space, her bed...her life--simply because she was the new and shiny trinket that he’d found displayed in a shop window. That they were never meant to last. That this had all been fated to end eventually. And while she is correct about the latter--it wounds him...somewhere in the farthermost depths of him--that she could for even an instant believe he had cheapened her existence like that.

That he, for all his years, was hollow--shallow--enough to play her feelings like strings. Because yes for as magic lined as her blood is, she is still mortal and she will die, but that made his love for her no less. Made his want to stay with her until old age robbed him of her, no more potent. But in mortal and human instinct to protect itself--she is pushing him away. And though he wishes to fight--though he could turn this into a shouting match that very well would be thought of later by him as ‘the coffee shop regret’....

He allows the frozen words to slip off him, though they slice at his skin as they go. Shatter to the floor between them and remain for moments. To think about their selfish choices, though he judges not a syllable for them. As green and yellow rise from where they’d fallen to the coffee table, to listen. Rise and hold her gaze for just a heart beat before they fall away again. Passing over the lot of the closed down shop. His mug long having gone cold, though it is still caged in fingers.

He will miss this place. Miss her. Miss the smell, the texture. The warmth and the sense of belonging she had let him borrow for a while. And from the polished wood, the brass finish along the counters, the bed and that couch he’d found rest in more times than was possibly ever acceptable; even given their once closeness---a breath is taken in from it all. Tiny bits stolen and hidden away into memory banks already overflowing, and how painfully slow he extricates himself from the booth.

Slowly but with a purpose, with steadiness that threatens to rip his insides out and leave them in bloody unidentifiable heaps in his wake. His jacket lifted easy from the back of the booth, to be worked into with a heavy kind of resolve. A twitch, a flicker of non existent light in his gaze; that comes and goes with such suddenness, it is very likely she never sees it at all. Though the repercussions will be left to weave themselves into the corners of this place, as a key is pulled from his pocket. Placed gently upon the table at which they’d shared their first cup of scald. And in much warmer tones than she had chosen to afford him---

“When ye be ol’...an ye be lookin’ back o’d’is moment--”

“Dunna foi’gh’ ta remember i’how ye could swea’ i’ wen’. Le’ ye moi’nd make me ta villian...le’ i’be twistin’ wha’ oi’be saying nex’ so i’no haunt ye.”

A breath’s worth of a pause. Hands tucking themselves into the shelving of his pockets. Swallowing down the want to fight more. To fight for this...for them. To leave his claw marks in another thing, time and his curse are ripping out of his grasp. But in the long run---that will hurt no one but her. And he loves her too much to do that too her. Especially given that this was her choice, and always had been.

“Oi’ love ye...oi’ couldna fer’ge’ ye even were oi’ wan’in’ ta. D’tradgedy ne’er be d’momentary o’us, Moncai. D’tradgedy be i’were always sittin’ on ye shoulders ta say when i’ ended. Ta say when me borrowed toi’me wi’d ye were done. So wha’ ye chose ta be givin’ me...oi’ be dankin’ ye fer i’.”

And he turns from her. Because there really is nothing else (in his mind) that needs saying. No point to remaining, to reiterate and argue the finer points. She’s made up her mind, and he learned a very long time ago--it is better to walk out of a mortal’s life the same way in which you walked into it. And for Jay that means suddenly and all at once. Like the dumping of ice water over your head, or the quick rip of a bandage yanked from skin.

And the only real sound of his leaving? Is the little bell above the door, and the easy thump of wood against the door frame. And maybe...just maybe mortals aren’t the only ones that need that sense of control. Because like he said--he’s done this before. And he learned, that in the end it hurts him less, to be the one that the literal door falls shut behind.

#morgansmornings #morgansmornings 06 #Moncaí || Jayden Morgan #Her Hands Are In His Hair His Clothes Are In Her Room || Jayde and Luka #Tra la la la la || Main Verse #Wolves Do Not Lose Sleep Over The Opinions Of Sheep || Que

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the-good-reader · 3 years ago

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C3: Scrap-Collecting Immortal’s Third Ascension to Godhood

Xie Lian [XL] had been reduced to a laughingstock of the 3 realms, with no incense, offerings, temples or believers.

The 2 retainers under him, Feng Xin [FX] and Mu Qing [MQ] had surpassed him.

If you were to ask XL to choose whether FX or MQ made him feel more awkward, he would say, “They’re all okay ah!”

However, if you asked bystanders who they wanted to see Xl fight, then everyone would make different choices- it was hard to pick which is the more interesting option.

Because of this, when there was no response from FX's side because he immediately hid and stopped talking, people were naturally disappointed.

Meanwhile, XL put himself down as he said: “I also didn’t anticipate making a commotion like this. It wasn’t deliberate, I’ve inconvenienced everyone.” MQ responded coolly, ...Oh, then that was indeed quite coincidental.

XL too thought it was coincidental.

How could the clock fall right onto MQ, while his ascension also happened to destroy FX’s palace?

This would look deliberate to bystanders.

However, XL was the type that managed to pick the sole poisoned cup among a thousand cups of wine.

He could only say, “I will try my best to compensate for everyone’s golden palaces and other losses. I also hope you may give me some time.”

XL was still genuinely pondering over where he was supposed to get those 8,880,000 merits when Ling Wen [LW] invited him to go to her Ling Wen Palace.

Ling Wen was the Heavenly Official in charge of managing Heaven’s personnel.

When mortals wished to get a step ahead in their careers, they would worship her.

Her palace was filled to the brim with official documents and scrolls, an utterly shocking scene.

When the two of them finally entered the Palace Hall, LW turned around and got straight to the point., ...Your Highness, there is a matter in which the Emperor would like to request your help. Are you willing to assist him and lend a helping hand?

In Heaven, there were many people who had the titles ZhenJun or YuanJun.

However, only one person could be called the Emperor.

XL was confused as this person would never have the need to call other people for help.

XL asks, "What matter?" ...“Recently, the North has a large number of zealous worshippers repeatedly praying for blessings. It can be assumed that they aren’t passing their days peacefully.”

These so-called zealous worshippers generally referred to three types of people:

Rich people who pay money in order to burn incense and build temples for gods.

Missionaries who would preach to bystanders.

People whose body and mind are thoroughly doused in faith and belief.

Most of these worshippers belonged to the first category, as in this world, rich people were like carps passing through rivers.

The third category had the least people; if one was truly able to get to that level of faith, they wouldn’t be far from ascending themselves.

The people LW mentioned were clearly from the first category, ...At present, the Emperor cannot attend to the North. If you are willing to take his place and make the trip, when the time comes, regardless of how much offerings these zealous worshippers make, everything will be allocated to your altar. What do you think? XL received the scroll with both hands as he said, “Many thanks.”

Emperor Jun Wu [JW] was clearly helping XL, but he had flipped it around and made it sound like he was asking XL for help.

XL realized this, but couldn't think of anything other to say than the 2 words he had said already.

LW replied, ...I’m only responsible for handling these affairs. If you want to thank someone, you should wait for the Emperor to return before personally thanking him instead. —Oh right, do you need my help borrowing any magical artefacts? XL answered, "There’s no need. Even if you give me a magical artefact, once I go down I won’t have any spiritual power, and so I won’t be able to use it.

XL has been beaten down twice, so he had lost his power.

In the Heavens, spiritual power was abundant, so he couls casually grab some to use.

If XL wanted to fight with magic in the mortal realm, he could only make do by finding someone he could borrow spiritual energy from, something extremely inconvenient.

LW pondered before saying, ...Then it would be best to borrow a few martial gods to assist you and lend a helping hand.

The current martial gods either didn’t recognize him, or they didn’t like him. Xie Lian understood that thoroughly, and so he responded, “There’s also no need for that. You won’t be able to borrow anyone.” LW seemed to have thought it seriously and only said, ...I’ll give it a try.

XL didn't oppose her words, and allowed her to try.

As a result,LW entered the spirit communication array before announcing in a bright tone, ...Everyone, the Emperor has an important task to be handled in the North and urgently need people. Which martial god Highness can lend out two martial officials from their Palace Halls to help? MQ’s floaty voice emerged, ...I’ve heard that the Emperor isn’t in the North right now, so I’m afraid you’re borrowing people for His Highness the Crown Prince, right? XL mentally thought, “Are you keeping guard at the spirit communication array all day long…?”

LW was in the same wavelength as him.

Although she was angry, she spoke with a smile, ...Xuan Zhen, why am I always seeing you in the array these two days? It seems like you’ve been stealing time to slack off and now you’re quite idle. Congratulations, congratulations. MQ replied in a light tone, ...My hand is injured, so I’m recuperating.

Every Heavenly Official there mentally thought, ...In the past, it would be nothing difficult for that hand of yours to split a mountain in half. So, what would hacking a foolish clock into pieces do to you?

LW had originally wanted to decieve 2 people, but now she was certain she wouldn't find anyone.

XL also didn’t believe anyone would come forward, and thus told her, “You see, I said you wouldn’t be able to borrow anyone.” ...If Xuan Zhen didn’t say anything, I would have indeed been able to. XL smiled, “Those words of yours had been as if you were carrying a pipa, but concealing half its face, beautifully blurring the scene to some degree. People would have thought they were going to help the Emperor with some work, so of course they would come. But when they come and realize they were going to have to work with me, I’m afraid there would be trouble. How could we work together like that? In any case, I’m used to being alone, and I’m not missing an arm or a leg, so let’s just go with this ah. Thank you for your trouble, I’ll leave now.” LW was also powerless, she cupped her hands in a salute before saying, ...Alright. I wish Your Highness’ journey goes smoothly, and may the blessings of Heaven’s Officials be upon you. “All taboos are off!”

Waving his hand, he left in a confident and carefree manner. ---

Three days later, mortal realm, the North.

By the side of a major road, there was a small teahouse.

The shopkeepers were simple folks, but goods were expensive because the scenery was good.

There were mountains and bodies of water, there were people and a city. They had everything, not much of everything—not much, but just right.

The teahouse’s tea sommelier was exceedingly idle, since he currently didn’t have any customers.

He was happily looking when, from afar, he saw a Taoist clad in white walking over.

The Taoist was covered in dust, looking as if he had been walking for a very long time. When he came closer, he walked past the small teahouse, before suddenly stopping in his tracks and slowly retracing his steps.

The Taoist tilted up his bamboo hat with his hand before raising his head. He only took one glance at the store before he started speaking with a smile.

“‘Chance Encounter’ little store, the name is interesting.”

Although this person had a tired appearance, he also had a face full of smiles, “Excuse me, may I ask if Mount Yu Jun is nearby?” The tea sommelier pointed in a direction for him, “It is in this region.”

That person breathed out, and for once he didn’t spit out his soul with that breath. In his mind, he thought, “I’ve finally arrived.”

This person was precisely Xie Lian.

He left the Immortal City that day.

XL had wanted to fall near Mount Yu Jun, but his sleeve got caught on a carefree cloud.

He tumbled around at a lofty, high altitude, and by the time he rolled down, he had no idea where he was.

After three days on foot, he finally reached his originally planned arrival location. Thus, for a short while, he felt extremely moved.

Entering the teahouse, Xie Lian picked a table beside the window before asking for some tea and snacks.

He had just got seated when he suddenly heard endless wailing and the sound of beating drums from outside the room.

He saw a group of people from all ages escorting a crimson-red bridal sedan as they walked past the teahouse.

If one looked closely, they would notice how the faces of these people all had solemn expressions—expressions of grief, anger, dread, yet the only emotion that wasn’t present was joy.

Whatever the case, it didn’t have the appearance of a wedding.

However, contrary to that thought, everyone was wearing red flowers as they played wind instruments and beat their drums.

This situation was really too strange.

That tea sommelier carried a copper teapot in his hand and raised it up high to pour some tea.

He he didn't seem to be shocked by this.

XL was just about to take out the scroll Ling Wen had given him to look over one more time, when he suddenly felt something dazzling flit by.

The moment XL raised his head, a silver butterfly flew past his eyes.

That silver butterfly was sparkly and translucent, looking pure and limpid. As it flew around in the air, it left behind bright traces.

XL couldn’t help but reach out a hand toward it.

This butterfly was extremely intelligent. Not only was it not frightened, it even temporarily stopped on his fingertips, both wings glittering and beautiful to the utmost degree.

Under the sunshine, it looked as if it was a fragment of an illusion.

After a moment, however, it flew away.

XL waved at it, something that could be considered as his goodbye.

But when he turned back, his table had two more people sitting there.

Both were teenage boys who looked around eighteen or nineteen years old.

The one on the left was taller, with facial expressions that looked quite defined and brightly handsome. Within his gaze was an arrogant and obstinate light.

The right side had very light skin. He looked delicate and pretty, yet also refined. However, his expression looked somewhat overly cold and apathetic, an appearance that made it seem as if he wasn’t too happy. In fact, the colour of the faces of both people didn’t look that great.

XL blinked his eyes before asking, “You two are?” The one on the left replied, ...Nan Feng [NF] The person on the right responded, ...Fu Yao [FY]

Xie Lian mentally thought: “It’s not like I’m asking for your names…”

At that moment, LW suddenly transmitted her voice over, ...Your Highness, there are two small martial gods from Middle Heaven who are willing to help. They’ve already gone down to look for you, so they should have arrived by now ah.

The so-called Middle Heaven was naturally relative to Upper Heaven.

The Heavenly Officials of Heaven could be simply and roughly divided into two categories: the ones that ascended, and the ones that didn’t.

The Heavenly Officials of Upper Heaven had all ascended by relying on themselves.

Being only about a hundred of them, they were each extremely precious.

But within Middle Heaven, the deities there were the ones who were brought up by “appointing them as deputy”.

Strictly speaking, their full names ought to be called “Fellow Heavenly Officials”.

However, when people called them, more often than not they would leave out that “fellow” word.

Since there was an Upper Heaven and a Middle Heaven, was there a Lower Heaven?

There wasn’t.

Actually, when XL ascended for the first time, Heaven was still divided as Upper Heaven and Lower Heaven.

But later, everyone found a problem when they introduced themselves to say, “I am from Lower Heaven’s so-and-so”, it sounded truly unpleasant.

With the ‘lower’ word existing, it made them feel especially inferior.

The only difference between them and real Heavenly Officials was merely how they lacked experiencing a Heavenly Tribulation, but who knew when that day would come.

Therefore, some people proposed to change a single word—turning introductions into ‘I am from Middle Heaven’s so-and-so’. This was much more pleasurable to hear than before.

After the change, XL hadn’t gotten used to it even after quite a while.

Xie Lian looked at these two small martial gods and thought it was unlikely they were “willing to come forward and help”.

Thus, he couldn’t help but ask, “Ling Wen ah, I think they don’t look like they came down to help me, and instead it looks more like they want to retrieve my dog head. Did you deceive them to get them to come?”

Unfortunately, it seemed that this question of his wasn’t transmitted out.

XL was incapable of doing anything else, so he first gave a smile to both the small martial gods before saying, “Was it Nan Feng and Fu Yao? To be willing to come and help me, let me thank you in advance.”

They both nodded, and appeared to have a somewhat lofty attitude.

Xie Lian had the tea sommelier bring two more cups of tea, “Which Highness’ Palace are you under?”

NF replied, ...Nan Yang Palace Hall. FY said, ...Xuan Zhen Palace Hall.” “….”

This truly made one feel frightened.

“Your Palaces’ Generals allowed you to come?” Both responded, ...My Palace’s General didn’t know I came. “Then, do you know who I am?” NF replied, ...You are His Royal Highness the Crown Prince. FY said, ...You are the correct path for the human world, you are the heart of the universe.

Xie Lian choked once, before he asked NF in an uncertain manner, “Just now, did he roll his eyes?” ...He did, let him scram.

Nan Yang’s relationship with Xuan Zhen wasn’t good, so when XL heard of that matter, he didn’t really feel surprised.

This was because, even back then, FX's and MQ’s relationship hadn’t been all that great.

Thus, even the worshippers from the Southeast and Southwest didn’t look upon each other in a positive light, while the Nan Yang Palace Hall and the Xuan Zhen Palace Hall had even more mutual hatred for each other.

FY smiled sarcastically as he stated, ...Ling Wen ZhenJun said that if you were willing, you could come. So, for what reason would I scram and leave?

The word ‘voluntary’, saying it with his expression didn’t look convincing.

XL said, “Let me confirm once. Are you two really voluntarily doing this? If you’re not, by all means, don’t force yourself ah.” Both said, ...I willingly volunteered.

Looking at those two deeply sad faces, XL mentally thought: "The words the two of you actually wanted to say were ‘I want to commit suicide’, right? “In short—” XL began, “Let’s first discuss the real work. You guys already know why we came to the North this time, so I won’t start explaining from the beginning…” Both of them interrupted him, ...I don’t know why.

XL could only take out his scroll before saying, “Then it would be best if I explain everything from the start.” ---

It was said that many years ago in Mount Yu Jun, there was a bride and a groom who loved each other very much and were about to be wed.

The bridegroom waited for the procession that delivered the bride, but even after waiting for a long time, he didn’t see the bride arrive.

He began to feel anxious, and thus began to look for the bride’s family, who informed him that his bride had long set off.

The two households reported this to the officials before they began looking in all directions.

Going from beginning to end of the procession's route, they never found her.

But even if she had been eaten by a fierce beast in the mountains, there should have been remains of an arm or a leg or what not.

How could she disappear in thin air?

Inevitablly, people harbored suspicions that the bride herself didn’t wish to marry, resulting in her colluding with the procession before escaping.

But who would have known that after a few years, another new couple married and the nightmare repeated itself - The bride disappeared again.

However, this time she didn’t leave without a trace.

On a small road, people found a foot that something hadn’t quite finished eating.

#tgcf #tian guan ci fu #summary #heaven official's blessing

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